Hellbound
by bluezinthos
Summary: Rose Tyler has been struggling with the institutionalization of her mother off and on since she was a child. No one seemed to understand the strong-willed young woman needed care as much as her broken parent until a new psychiatrist, Dr. James McCrimmon, takes over her mother's care. But Dr. McCrimmon seems to be harboring dangerous demons of his own. Rose becomes tangled in an aff
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Pointed, reaching branches, black in the grey night, scratched at his face and arms. The half moon was melting in the inky sky; stars looked like supernovas, bats like great draping capes of fabric.

A scream echoed through the cold air, surrounding him with sound. There was no where he could turn, no where he could run, that the piercing noise didn't follow. A canon boom echoed around him, shattering the trees like glass, the pieces crunching under his feet. The scream abruptly cut off just as he plummeted over the edge of a cliff.

Dr. James McCrimmon awoke in a sweaty tangle of sheets, chest heaving. A dim grey light seeped in through the curtains, echoing the early hour. It'd been the same dream chasing him for the last two months, from Scotland to London, ever since he alone received the letter inviting him to Nightingale Mental Health Hospital.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, James decided to head for the shower. There would be no more sleep for him, might as well get an early start.

Pressing, heaving, gulping breaths, smothering heat. Rhythmic squeaking drowned out the pained whimpering. It was the same every time, the first time, the second time, the tenth time. Nothing got better.

Rose Tyler awoke with a gasp. Too much caffeine and long hours were causing her nightmare to recur more frequently. This was the third night in a row she'd dreamed of the time she ran away from home, right before her Mum landed in the hospital this last time. It was the only time in her life she was selfish and wanted to be normal and have a normal life. And it cost her dearly.

Stumbling to the shower, Rose let the steamy spray hit her face. She had a few hours to work before she headed to Nightingale Mental Health Hospital and visited her Mum and met with the new psychiatrist who would be taking over her care.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you my Mummy?"

Rose Tyler looked up from her book, startled. Crouched in front of her was a woman with dark hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing some sort of paper mask shaped like a gas mask.

"Are you my Mummy?"

The woman leaned in closer, pressing against Rose's knees. Smiling softly, Rose tilted her head.

"Sorry, I'm not your Mummy. I've just got done visiting with my own Mum. Do you see someone here that you think might be your Mummy?"

The woman gripped Rose's hand and tugged. Rose glanced around the visiting area but the aides were busy assisting other families with their loved ones. She just finished visiting with her own Mum and was waiting for Dr. Mott to come round and introduce the new physician who'd been treating Jackie Tyler for the last month. A fresh wave of guilt washed through Rose at not having visited her Mum sooner but there was no helping it. Bills were due and she'd picked up so many double shifts at the shop she'd barely managed breakfast most days let alone any other meals. She was absolutely determined that her Mum would return to the flat as if nothing had changed. As it was, Rose was going to have to have the telly turned back on and get phone service restored. She'd been living with nothing more than her mobile for the last few months.

Another tug brought her back to reality.

The woman pulled her towards the door and out into the bright hallway. One reason Rose liked this hospital more than the others was the colors. Rather than the typical sterile, white hallways, Nightingale Mental Health Hospital's were painted a bright yellow with green trim and decorated with artwork, both local artists and the patient's own. A few were of Rose's own artwork, back when she had time to draw and paint, scattered along the ward at her mother's insistence.

Rose's new companion hadn't gotten far when they bumped into a tall, thin man dressed in brown pinstriped trousers, a light blue oxford and a brown swirly patterned tie. His brown hair defied gravity, spiked in all directions with the exception of his neatly trimmed side burns but his chocolate colored eyes were kind behind his dark rimmed glasses.

"Well, Miss Foster, who have you kidnapped now?" He drawled in a wonderful Scottish accent. Rose mentally chided herself. She did not need to find this man attractive!

The woman, Miss Foster, tilted her masked head at the man and repeated her query.

"Are you my Mummy?"

He laughed. "That would be a bit difficult, eh? But I tell you what, I bet if you take off your wonderful mask so we can see your face, it will be a bit easier for you to find what you're looking for."

Miss Foster seemed to think about it for a moment before releasing Rose's hand to untie her mask. The woman beneath was pleasant looking, but squinted dreadfully. She patted her pockets and pulled out a pair of glasses, slipping those on and handing the mask to the man.

"Lovely," he smiled. "Now, if you check your room, I bet you'll find what you were looking for."

Clapping, Miss Foster disappeared down another hallway, leaving Rose and the stranger together. The man ran his finger through his hair absently.

"I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

Rose found herself entranced by the path the man's fingers were taking through the thick dark strands. So much so, she almost forgot to answer.

"Oh, no. She wasn't any trouble. I was actually waiting for Dr. Mott to get back. He was supposed to be looking for someone for me to meet."

"Wilf? You wouldn't be Miss Tyler then would you?"

"Yes. And you are?"

He thrust his hand out and Rose took it, noticing immediately how warm it was and how comfortable her smaller hand fit in his.

"Dr. James McCrimmon. Most people just call me Doctor, though, except Wilf, he calls me Jaime." Dr. McCrimmon wrinkled his nose at the last.

Rose laughed. "Rose Tyler, Jackie's daughter. Nice to meet ya. Do you want to go back to the visitors lounge and wait for Dr. Mott or…"

"My office is here," he gestured behind him with his free hand, only then realizing that he still held Rose's with the other. Dropping it quickly, he turned and motioned for her to go ahead of him into the room.

It was unlike most of the other physician's of offices she'd been in, boasting degrees and accolades on the walls along with complicated charts and diagrams of the brain and neurons. Dr. McCrimmon had the diploma's, but they were stacked haphazardly against a file cabinet topped with a thriving fern. His walls featured photos of him smiling with his patients and his desk was cluttered with files and models of the brain.

Shifting a pile of files from one of the guest chairs to the floor, he motioned for Rose to sit while he dropped into his own chair with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry for the chaos. I promise it's just while I'm getting acquainted with everyone and I just have to settle in." He jumped a bit when a slinky spring out from the recently moved files and bounced across the floor.

Laughing, Rose found herself more at ease than she had in a long time.

"Somehow, I doubt that, Doctor. Not that it's a bad thing," She hurried to assure him when he frowned at her. "Isn't there a saying about a messy desk?"

"Ah, Einstein. 'If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?' I would never be accused of having an empty mind!"

"Will that woman, Miss Foster, find what she was looking for?"

"Worried about her, are you?" He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with those fathomless eyes. "She'll find it in her room. It's a doll she's looking for. You handled her very well, Miss Tyler. Not many people would have been so comfortable with a mental health patient, even if their own parent is one."

"Rose, please. I've been though this so often with Mum that this place seems like a sort of second home now. It's weird that Dr. Mott will be retiring. I've known him since I was 17, just after Mum's last big relapse. She seemed to be doing so well at home." She twisted her fingers together, trying not to pick at her cuticles. She was desperately trying to break the habit. Again.

"Wilf, Dr. Mott, is a wonderful psychiatrist, Rose and I'm sure he's not going to abandon you completely." The Doctor pulled out a thick file and opened it. Clipped to the upper left hand corner was a smiling picture of Jackie Tyler, her dyed blond hair in a neat tail. No roots showed in the picture in the file. In reality, Jackie Tyler had been in the hospital long enough for a good three inches of dark brown hair to have grown in. She was desperate for a trip to the salon. One more expense Rose was struggling to save up for.

She tried to focus back on what the Doctor was saying.

"I've been treating Jackie for the last month. Really, I've been spending most of my time getting to know her. She talks about you quite a bit. What she wants out of life for you. What she thinks you should be doing. Takes quite a bit to get her focused on herself."

"Tell me about it," Rose muttered.

He smiled. "Yes, Jackie likes to focus on others during her waking hours. It allows her to avoid her reality and escape into her fantasy world in sleep. We've been focusing on that."

For the next forty minutes, Rose and the Doctor discussed her Mum's new treatment and the anticipation of Jackie being able to come home for a short period of time for the holidays when Rose's stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast and that was only a slice of toast and tea.

Dr. Wilfred Mott chose that moment to pop his head through the doorway. He was older, Rose suspected somewhere in his late sixties, with white hair and whiskers, but his blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor. She couldn't imagine him sitting still in retirement. He was always regaling Rose with astronomy lessons and the latest conspiracy theory about aliens and the crown.

"Oh, ho, there you two are! I've been combing the halls for you. Leaving me at the tender mercies of your mother, I see Miss Tyler," Dr. Mott teased.

Rose laughed. "I hope Mum wasn't too hard on you. She's gonna miss you when you leave. Dr. McCrimmon here's been tellin' me about how Mum's been adjusting to 'im."

"Slapped him a good one the first time he sat in on one of my sessions with her, she did."

The Doctor rubbed at his cheek. "And I'm still recovering from that. Lesson learned."

Rose raised a brow. "What lesson was that?"

"Never discuss her cooking skills in a session. Ever."

Wilf gestured at the two of them. "Speaking of cooking, Miss Tyler I came in just in time to hear your stomach protesting rather loudly. And I know this bean pole doesn't consume anything except for coffee while he's here. Why don't the two of you pop out for a bite?"

Blushing, Rose glanced at the Doctor to see him tugging on his ear. His very red tipped ear.

"I don't want to interrupt anything…" Rose hedged.

"Nonsense. Gives me time to organize this one's case notes. And make certain the two of you eat something. Rose you are looking entirely too thin. I've told you before that you work too hard. Don't make me regret retiring. I just might have to take up looking after you as my new hobby. Now go, both of you."

The Doctor grabbed a matching pinstriped coat and gestured for Rose to precede him out into the hall. After stopping at reception to sign out, they headed out into the cool London air. Rose paused at the sidewalk, not sure where he wanted to go.

"So, Miss Tyler, what do you fancy having for dinner? Anything in particular?" The Doctor asked rocking back on his heels. Rose glanced down and noticed he was wearing battered cream colored Chucks with his suit rather than dress shoes. A bit geeky, but it seemed to fit him.

"Dunno. Haven't really had the time to go out an' eat much lately. But I could murder some chips."

"Chips it is! It just so happens there is a fantastic chippy about two blocks over from here. Shall we?" He held out his arm and Rose looped hers though it without a second thought. Both were quiet, content to enjoy the brisk breeze and rare sunshine. The chippy was sandwiched between a medical bookshop and a butcher's but the rich smell of grease and potatoes filled the air and caused Rose's stomach to rumble loudly a second time. This time the Doctor laughed.

"Have you been feeding that thing lately? It seems angry."

Blushing, Rose ducked under his arm and made her way to the counter. "Tea an' toast for breakfast. I had a quick fill in this mornin' for a mate that called in sick. They needed me to cover otherwise this would'a been my first full day off in almost a month. I need to go to the grocery."

"A month?" He frowned down at her, dark brows drawing together. "I think Wilf was right when he said you worked too hard. Do you always work so much?"

The cashier pushed a tray loaded with fish and chips along with drinks towards them and the Doctor patted his suit pockets. Then his pants pockets. His arm was in one almost to his elbow when Rose stopped him with a sigh.

"No money?"

The eyes he gave her wouldn't have looked out of place on a puppy who was trying to avoid a scolding.

She pulled out her wallet "Cheap date, you are. I'll pay this time but the next round is on you."

Grabbing the tray, he moved towards a booth. "So you're implying there's going to be a next time, Miss Tyler?"

"It's a figure of speech," she popped a chip in her mouth and moaned. "Though if all the places you know to eat at have food as good as these chips, there might have to be a next time."

"Sure, use me for my excellent taste in food. But in all seriousness Rose, why are you working so much?"

Sipping her water, Rose tried to organize her thoughts. She'd tried explaining why she was hardly around to her friends and they didn't understand, wanted her to bunk in with one of them and enjoy her twenties. Maybe Dr. McCrimmon would be able to validate why she was working so hard.

"I work at Hendrick's. I used to just work days, back when Mum was at home, on Powell Estate." The Doctor nodded. "When she went back in the hospital this last time it was hard to keep track of everything. She must have gotten some of those credit card applications in the mail and I didn't notice, ran up some bills. I got them all sorted but I was still almost a thousand pounds in debit. Then there were the regular bills and rent and groceries. I needed to keep everything the same so when Mum comes home this time, nothin's out of place."

Setting down his fork, the Doctor leaned forward and rest his elbows on the table. "Rose, I'm going to be honest with you, I've read through your Mother's chart several times, seen the different medications she's tried, the varying talk therapies she's been through. I've been working with Dr. Mott to transition her over to my care for the past few weeks. There are a number of pages in that file devoted to you, in how you care for your Mum, so I'm asking you if you think your Mum can handle being at home?"

Rose pushed back from the table.

"Of course she wants to go home! Why wouldn't she?"

"That's not what I asked, Rose, and I think you know it. I think you deliberately phrased your answer that way. You come across as a very intelligent young woman. I want to know what you think."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not smart. Never even sat my A-levels. Stuck workin' in a shop the rest of my life."

He reached out and covered her hand with his. "There's more to life than book smarts. So talk to me, Rose Tyler."

"I think…I think she'd be okay. For a bit. Then she'd see some psychic on the telly and be back to square one. I even hid Dad's ashes last time cause she was carrying 'round in her purse with her. But I don't know what I'd do without her, either."

"Don't you want to move out one day? Get married? Have a family of your own? Do you think Jackie would be functional on her own."

Rose stabbed at a particularly large chip. "Never gave the future much thought. Had a bit of a rebellious stage when I was younger that lasted about a year and that pretty much broke me of taking any risks. Alls I know is the Estate. Mum always talked about me getting' airs an' graces from bein' around the types of people at the shop, how I should be proud of where I'm from and not want anythin' more. Figured I'd be takin' care of her for the rest of my life."

"Rose, just from what I've read about you, I think you have more potential than you know. And I think I'd like to get to know you better. Not as your mother's physician either."

Eyes widening, Rose chewed her chips for a moment and studied James McCrimmon. He was unlike anyone she would meet on the Estate that was for sure. Lankey, but fit, well dressed, he had intelligence in spades but didn't make Rose feel inferior. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that, with those chocolate brown eyes, and that wild hair, and a dusting a freckles across his cheeks. But Rose had made it a rule to avoid men after her last disasterous relationship. Even though that had been years ago.

"Are you sure that would be okay? I mean, Mum's your patient and all."

He tugged his ear. "I think it should be alright. I'd have to be careful with what I discuss with you, even though you are her medical Power of Attorney. I can talk to Wilf about it if you're worried."

"You're that serious that you'd talk to Dr. Mott? But you just met me?"

He reached out and covered her hand. "There is something special about you Rose Tyler. A spark that I haven't felt since I moved here from Scotland. And I'd like to find out more about it."

Rose found herself nodding. "Alright then. Chips are on you next time."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

James scrubbed his hands over his face and grimaced. He may joke about his 'manly, hairy hands' but he hated how quickly the stubble returned to his face. When he had chips with Rose Tyler he was sure he was sporting more than a five o'clock shadow.

Rose Tyler. There was a conundrum. He'd done exactly as he'd said and locked himself in his office with Wilf for a good three hours when he'd returned from dinner. Truthfully less than an hour of that was spent discussing his fears about getting to know Miss Tyler outside of being a patient's next of kin. Wilf thought it was a wonderful idea, having been concerned for years that Rose worked too hard and devoted too much of her childhood to caring for an ill parent on her own. He thought James would be good for her, helping assuage any guilt she might have lingering for enjoying herself for a change.

James worried about being the lead psychiatrist on Jackie Tyler's treatment team and what the others might say. Wilf saw little problem there but said they would bring it up during the next care planning meeting if James felt it necessary.

Now, there was nothing stopping him from pursuing a relationship with the young woman. They'd talked more on the walk back to Nightingale, Rose saying it was nearing time for her to catch her bus back. She was twenty-five, a good ten years younger than himself, but not an impossible age difference. Whereas he'd had the opportunity to travel throughout college and university, Rose had only ever stayed in London, most of her time spent in Peckam, though she dreamed of going to Venice and Brazil and seeing Carnivale.

Groaning, he checked the time. It was nearing eleven o'clock. Much as he dreaded the thought of going home to his empty flat, and worse the empty bed, there was no point in getting caught sleeping at his desk. Again.

"Another late night, Dr. McCrimmon? Might not want to make a habit of that. People might start to think you can't handle being Chief Psychiatrist once Dr. Mott retires."

James looked up to see Dr. Harold Saxon leaning against the doorframe. At three years older than James, Saxon had applied for the Chief position three years running, ever since rumors of Wilf's retirement started to circle at the hospital. That they had gone ahead and hired outside the hospital angered the man to no end. And he saw no problem letting James know it.

James tried to get along with everyone at Nightingale or at least tired to be civil, but Saxon had antagonized him from the beginning, complaining about how he kept his office to how he chose to conduct his therapy sessions. James had made no secret that he'd had a traumatic childhood and often suffered from extended periods of insomnia, sometimes requiring medication, before he signed on, but Saxon was always hinting that perhaps there was more to it than just that.

"Oh, you know no rest for the weary. I'm just heading out now. Was there something you needed?" James hated spending more time than necessary in the blond man's company. He was brash, bold, and entirely too fond of listening to himself talk, and not in an interesting way.

Saxon smirked. "I think that's no rest for the wicked, something you might want to think on, eh, McCrimmon?"

James grabbed his satchel and stood, brushing past the other man to pull his door shut, making a show of jiggling the locked handle.

"I think it's you who's misquoting, Saxon. The quote talks about the 'tossing sea, which cannot rest, there is no peace for the wicked.' And I'm finding today rather peaceful if not restful. If there's nothing else, I need to get home."

Twenty minutes later found James, pacing living area of his apartment. It wasn't that he wasn't tired; he just hated to go to sleep. He'd been prescribed a milder sleep aid when he moved to London but he disliked taking it. It didn't stop the dreams; rather it kept him trapped in them until morning when the drug wore off. He wondered if it was too late to text Rose. His fingers found her number and hit send before his brain kicked in.

Two minutes later the phone beeped.

 _Doctor? I would have thought you'd be asleep by now._

 _Sorry! You must have to be up early tomorrow! Don't mind me._

 _It's ok. Did you need something? Can't sleep?_

 _Yeah. Don't sleep much._

 _Me either. It's weird, Mum's been in and out of hospital since I was a teenager but I hate sleeping when there's no one else in the flat._

 _Everything seems like it's dangerous. Or alive._

 _YES! I bashed my toaster once with a bat! I was so mad. Had to have Mickey try and fix it._

 _Mickey?_

 _My oldest mate. Mum prolly has photos of us in mud puddles._

 _So, I take it I shouldn't try and sneak into your flat at night then?_

 _Not if you value your kneecaps, mister!_

 _What about late night serenades?_

 _I wouldn't. Bev down the hall might decide to keep you after getting a look at you. And if you think my Mum's scary. Well, she has nothing on Bev._

 _Noted. Would you like to get together again this week? For chips? Or something different. I can pick. Or you can. I'll make sure to bring my wallet this time._

 _I've never met anyone that can ramble in a text. I'd love to. I'll let you know my next night free._

 _That's not a line letting me off easy is it?_

 _Wouldn't have given you my real number if it was. Try and get some sleep, Doctor._

 _Goodnight, Rose._

It took three days before Rose was able to get a day where she only worked one shift, though they texted or called each other in between. As much as she hesitated to have him see where she lived, there was no helping it. He knew she lived on an Estate, so that wouldn't come as a surprise and she was running late enough that he'd have to meet her there if they had any hope of having a decent amount of time together.

Skidding around the corner from the bus stop, she plowed into someone scattering her bag on the ground and sending her sprawling on top of a gangly body.

"OOF! Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watch…wait, Doctor?"

Chuckling, he began disentangling his long limbs from her shorter ones.

"Hello, to you too Rose. Running a bit late?" He plucked something out of her fringe and squinting she batted at a dusty cobweb.

"Ugh. Yes and I'm sorry. Again. They had me moving shop dummies in the basement all afternoon for a new display. Lost track of time down there." She accepted her bag back with a grin and climbed to her feet. She held her hands out to the Doctor and he pulled himself up with a chuckle.

"Blimey, you're heavier than you look."

She was surprised when he kept hold of her hand on the short walk to the estate. She wasn't one for even casual contact with most people but she liked the way her fingers fit with the Doctor's.

"Oi, careful there or I won't be paying for dinner." He swung their hands playfully. "So you had an exciting day of manual labor?"

"Ha. My friend Keisha kept stacking the dummies in naughty positions. Thought I was gonna get fired more than once. It was a change from restacking jumpers all day, though. Don't know why some women feel the need to go through a display and mess it up, especially right after they just seen me stock it."

"Depends on the person or persons. If it's a group of teenagers or even two or three adult women, peer pressure causes people to do amazingly rude things in an attempt to impress or fit in. A single person may be depressed or angry and in an attempt to cope, trying to cause someone else to feel as badly as they do."

She gaped, she couldn't help it. She knew her mouth was literally hanging open. The Doctor frowned when he caught her staring.

"Er, something I said?"

"No, just wasn't expecting that sorta answer. Hafta remember you're all kinds of impressive." She grinned but still looked doubtful. "You sure you want to get to know me? I'm not that special."

They reached the lower door to Bucknall Hall and Rose pulled it open, holding it for the Doctor. They were quiet all the way up to number 42, Rose unlocking the door and moving aside to allow the Doctor in. He placed his hand on the door frame effectively blocking her.

"Rose," he said softly, "you are wonderful, please believe that. I've loved talking to you these last few days. You have me intrigued now, and I love a good mystery, so I'll have to figure out why you have such a low opinion of yourself."

Shoving him in the door, Rose chucked her shoes and scanned the room, hoping she picked up well enough for company.

"Well, you'll just have to stew cause I need a shower and a change before we go anywhere. Think you can stay out of trouble for thirty minutes?"

He gave a mock salute and belly flopped on the couch, grabbing the nearest gossip rag and making himself at home.

The hot spray felt wonderful after a long day. Rose knew she should hurry with James waiting on her but the shower was one indulgence she could still afford. Even bleaching her hair was left to her friend Shareen, who was just out of beauty school. All Rose had to pay for was the bleach, her friend volunteered the time. Speaking of which, she frowned at her ends, her hair really needed a trim.

Taking the time to let the conditioner sit, her thoughts drifted to theman she left lounging on her sofa. She hadn't told Keisha or Shareen about James, at least not the part about her agreeing to date him. It was pretty much a given fact amongst her friends that Rose did not date. She knew she was considered cold – and that was one of the nicer words she'd heard thrown around the shop – but even her Mum didn't know what went on when she'd run away for a year. This was the first time in close to a decade that she actually felt attracted to a man.

Shaking herself, she stepped out of the shower realizing she'd brought nothing into the loo to change into. Not that the trip to her bedroom was far, but she wasn't that comfortable with the Doctor to be running about in her skivvies.

It was eerily quiet when she poked her head out the door to the hall.

"Doctor?" Nothing.

"James?" He wouldn't have up and left on her would he?

"Doctor?" She padded into the living room, wrapping her old pink robe tighter around herself. Peeking into the kitchen, she bit back a laugh. There was the Doctor at her tiny table, bits of some sort of electronic something or other scattered around him, his brainy specs on his nose, looking all sorts of deliciously disheveled.

Until she saw the case to the toaster.

"Is that my toaster?"

His eyes went wide behind the dark frames. "Erm…yes?"

Tapping her foot on the worn tile, Rose found herself struggling to keep a straight face. James' hair, which had been sort of artfully messy, now stuck up on all directions. He had a few smudges of what she could only guess was charred toast on his cheek and chin and looked so thoroughly confused, she wanted to brush aside the fact he'd just taken apart her only means of making breakfast.

"An' how am I supposed to make toast?"

"I'm making it better?"

"Are you sure? 'Cause you don' sound it. An' I don't think all those pieces came outta that toaster."

A Cheshire grin lit up his face. "Oh, no they didn't! I thought if I added an extra line of heating elements, then you could get more even browning at a lower temperature."

Even though she was only in her robe, Rose moved to sit across from him, propping one foot to rest on the chair and wrapping her arms around her knee.

"An' where did the extra heating element come from? You don't carry that sorta thing on you, do you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked around the small room. It was pale yellow with light wooden cabinets, the curtains a cheery flower pattern. There was no hiding the room was worn but it was clean and tidy, with a few canvas paintings of fruits and flowers decorating the walls.

"Doctor?"

"I may have nicked them from the toaster oven. Did you paint those?"

Rose sighed. "Right. You owe me one toaster or one deluxe toaster oven. Or maybe both. You can have these two to muck around with."

"Now, Rose, I can…" he paused and looked at her. "I can muck around with these? You don't mind?"

Laughing, she rose to get dressed. "I mind that you destroyed my only way to make breakfast, not that you tinker. Gives me more to ask you about. Now, can I trust ya not to burn down the place while I get dressed?"

He looked at her, dragging his eyes from the towel wrapped around her head to her bare feet. She pulled her robe a bit tighter at the collar and could feel herself blush.

"I don't know; you look lovely as is. Pink suits you, in more ways than one, Miss Tyler."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

"Are you alright?" James asked as he and Rose walked hand in hand down a busy London street. "You've been quiet since we left your flat. I really am sorry about the toaster. And the oven. I get restless when I'm nervous and I …well I tend…to ah…well"

"Ramble pointlessly and destroy things?" Rose guessed giggling.

"Yes! I mean, no!" his ears pinked.

Bumping his arm with her shoulder, Rose relaxed as they walked. "'S alright, Doctor. I'm only kiddin'. You looked sorta cute, all geeky tinkering at the table."

Looking around at the kitschy neighborhood they'd wandered into, Rose wondered if James knew where he was going. Despite sounding like he'd dropped in from directly from Scotland, he maneuvered through London with ease, darting down narrow streets that even Rose herself hadn't bothered with.

"Where are we goin?"

"How do you feel about Indian for dinner? Somewhere we can sit for a bit?"

"I've had a bit of Indian takeaway, does that count?"

Widening his eyes, he pulled her to a stop in front of a set of brightly curtained windows. Steam fogged the lower portions and the smell of spice and cooking rice filled the air.

"Rose Tyler that is not a true experience. Thank goodness we met when we did." He opened the door and a puff a warm, richly scented air hit Rose in the face. Her stomach rumbled in response. Wrapping a hand over it, she threw the Doctor a sheepish grin. At this rate he was going to think she was incapable of feeding herself, when the truth was, he just took her to the most divine places.

They were seated at an intimate little table and immediately given menus. Having no idea what to try, Rose took a chance and deferred to the Doctor, with the only stipulation being that it wasn't overly spicy. While the Doctor chatted with their waitress, Rose looked around. It wasn't a place she would normally have looked twice at, not because it appeared expensive, but because it was tucked out of the way in an area that she usually assumed didn't welcome her type. It was decorated with an abundance of gold leaf and dangling jeweled sun catchers, statues of deities were draped with intricate tapestries. It was gorgeous and overdone and her Mum would have loved it.

"What's wrong?" he covered her hand on the table.

Rose shook her head and smiled. "Sorry. Here we are out on a date and I'm all in a funk. 'S nothing, really. Just look at how bright and overdone ever'thin' is." She waved her free hand around to indicate the cluttered walls.

To her surprise, the Doctor grinned. "Your Mum would love it here. Would want the name of the decorator."

"Yes!"

"Rose, it's okay to talk about your Mum to me. Especially about her…eclectic taste in decorating. That's all part of the getting to know you stage. We don't have to deal with any of the doctor/caregiver stuff when we're out together."

Letting out a breath, she smiled. "It's been a long time since I've been out on a date. At least one that I've agreed to and known in advance that it's a date."

James perked up. "Really? Gorgeous, smart girl like you? I'd think you'd have your choice of guys lining up to take you out."

"Ah, but most don't see past the bleached hair, hips, and East End accent. I've been set up a few times, gone out for drinks, but that's been it." She tilted her head. "You don' look at me like any of those blokes did. You don' even look at me like Mickey does and he's my oldest mate in the world."

They leaned back as water and some sort of creamy white drink with beads at the bottom was set on the table. James took a quick sip of the creamy drink and tilted his head.

"And how do those blokes look at you?"

Rose waved her hand. "Oh, ya know, not too bright but gotta be good in bed kinda look. Take her out a couple of times, show her a bit of fun an' she'll pay back in kind. Get used to it after a while. I don't like it, mind, but I got used to it. I figure that blokes don't 'spect much else. But you look at me like I'm gonna come up with some sorta revelation."

"Rose, I won't deny that I find you attractive but I do think you're intelligent. Just because you didn't get your A-levels or go on to University doesn't make you stupid. You ask the right kind of questions and that sometimes shows more brains than knowing all the answers."

He looked so sincere that Rose found herself blushing again. Indicating the drink in front of them, she asked, "Speaking of the right sort of questions, what, exactly, are we drinking?"

"Try it first."

"Doctor…" Her dark brow rose.

"No, really, try it first; if you don't like it, then you can get something else. If I tell you what it is, you might not drink it."

"Great," she muttered. Taking a tiny sip, she found it oddly sweet and a bit herby. Taking a bigger sip, she still couldn't quite place the flavor.

He chuckled. "It's called Falooda. It's made with milk or yogurt, rose syrup, basil, psyllium, and tapioca beads. A bit better for taming spicy foods on the tongue than plain water. Do you like it?"

"I don't know yet. I keep wantin' ta chew it." Setting her glass down, she looked at the Doctor. He was dressed impeccably again, this time in dark navy trousers, a light blue oxford open at the collar, and a navy jumper. His hair was rumpled and sticking up and he was wearing his glasses again.

"So, you know a lot about me already, just from talkin' with Mum. Tell me something about you. Where did you grow up?"

James flushed pink again. Rubbing the back of his neck he leaned back. He hated talking about himself, would much rather listen to other people. It was part of the reason he went into psychiatry. That and the trouble he'd been having with gaps in his memory the last two months wasn't helping him win any new friends here in London.

"I was actually born in Ireland, believe it or not, a little town called Gallifrey. Lived in Scotland though as long as I can remember." He took a deep breath. "My parents and older brother died when I was eight in a fire. I was the only one that escaped. I was sleeping in the barn with the horses that night. Got into a fight with my Da over a pony and refused to come in. Turned out that was the only reason I survived."

He kept his head down. He had no idea why he laid that on Rose, he hardly ever told anyone about his childhood, and on a second date, well a first official date. He wouldn't blame her if she decided to leave him right there. The waitress set up their dinner and they both murmured their thanks. There was a nudge against his ankle.

"Doctor…James… thank you for tellin' me. I can't imagine what that was like, to lose everyone at once like that. I was five when Dad died. I had Mum, for the most part, those first couple a years, before I had to start takin' care a her. Where did you go?"

Looking up, he saw understanding rather than pity in her eyes. Of course Rose would understand. Her childhood was similar in so many ways. Only he'd grown up with money and she hadn't. Didn't help with loneliness though.

"Boarding schools mostly. My grandparents on my father's side were older and didn't want a child underfoot and my parents had money. So off I went. Got in trouble quite a bit-"

"Blowing things up or taking them apart?" Rose teased, taking a bit of chicken and lentils.

Smiling, he felt lighter. "Both, actually. Set fire to the dorms once. But money talks so quite a bit was forgiven. Then onto University. Studied Physics, Astronomy, Engineering, and Psychology. Decided to go on in Medicine."

"Wow. You but you look young. Not that I think you're old now or anythin'." She sighed, blushing. "None of that's comin' out right, is it?"

Laughing, he held out a bit of Dal Makhani spread on Naan to her. She hesitated for a moment before taking it and biting in. He'd noticed that when he went to hold hands with her, too. He'd make the gesture and Rose would always pause a moment, as if she needed to think about the consequences of following through with the gesture. Or as though she was waiting for a blow. Yet another mystery to Rose Tyler.

"I'm thirty five, Rose."

Her eyes widened. "You don't think I'm too young?"

He stole a piece of her chicken and quirked a brow. "You don't think I'm too old? Age can be just a number if you have enough that interests you."

Dinner went better than James imagined it would, each of them sticking with lighter get to know you topics like 'what's your favorite color?' (pink and blue respectively) and 'who was better Elvis or the Beatles?' (Rose was die hard Beatles – though she had a thing for Elvis during his Vegas Era). Once finished, they headed towards Hendricks, where Rose worked, to get a new toaster with her shop discount.

The evening air had cooled enough they could see their breath and she'd wrapped her multicolored scarf tighter around the neck of her denim jacket. James tucked the hand he was holding with its fuchsia hand warmer into his overcoat pocket.

"You picked today to wear a skirt?"

"It's cute and you were rushing me! I had no idea if the friggie would be in one piece when I got done. 'Sides, the tights help."

She gave him a sidelong glance before continuing. "What made you come to London?"

For the first time, James seemed to close off. His eyes lost a bit of their manic sparkle and he hunched in on himself.

"I had nothing really left in Scotland. Finished school, wrote for a few research journals, drifted for a while, then I saw the posting for Wilf's job. Thought it was the perfect change of pace."

"Didn't you have friends you left behind?"

"Believe it or not, Rose Tyler, I have a difficult time making friends. Most people consider me an insufferable know it all."

She gazed up at the sky, blocked by clouds and obscured by the London lights. "Sometimes I wish I had the courage to just up and go. Start over. New name, new identity, not be plain old Rose Tyler with all her baggage."

 _Oh, Rose. If you only knew._ James thought.

"ROSE!"

Spinning, Rose and James caught sight of a handsome dark skinned young man running towards them. He was dressed in oil stained coveralls and wearing heavy workboots.

"Mickey, hello! James this is Mickey Smith. Mickey, this is Dr. James McCrimmon or just the Doctor, if you want." Rose introduced when he caught up with them.

James couldn't help but feel like he was being utterly and completely ignored by the other man. Mickey hardly spared him a glance before he tried to step between them and James was rather chuffed when Rose kept her grip on his hand even if she did pull them out of his coat pocket.

"I've been trying to call you since you go off work. You didn't answer."

"I told you I was goin' out, Micks. Had my phone on silent." Rose shifted around a bit so that James wasn't left facing Mickey's back.

"You said you were goin' out. Nobody actually believed it," Mickey snorted.

James watched Rose's expression carefully. Her face fell when Mickey, her supposed oldest mate in the world, teased her. She scuffed her toe on the sidewalk before schooling her features.

"Said I met the Doctor a couple a days ago. Who'd ya think I'd been textin' at night?"

Mickey shrugged. "Keisha thought it was some 'text a boyfriend' site to get her off your back. Didn't think you'd actually gone out with someone. No offense, mate," he tacked on.

"Offense taken."

Startled, Mickey took a good look at the older man. Hard brown eyes stared down at him, eyes that softened considerably when they shifted to Rose.

"Rose speaks rather highly of you, calls you her oldest mate. I was under the impression you'd be something rather more…well, impressive. So far all you've managed to do is insult Rose and myself. You don't know me, so I don't really care, but I do mind you insulting Rose."

"I wasn't insulting Rose, tell 'im, babe. I tease Rose all the time about bein' a homebody. Never gets out for drinks or darts down at the pub so o' course we wasn't sure that you really existed! And a doctor to boot!" Mickey hooted.

Rose gave James hand a gentle squeeze and when he caught her eyes he could tell she just wanted to continue on with their date. He found that he couldn't agree more, though he didn't think Rose would appreciate it if he was flat out rude to her friend. Luck was on his side for once when she took care of things.

"We really need to get goin', Micks. Call ya later, yeah?"

Mickey scratched his cheek and frowned.

"Are you sure, babe? I could hang out with you guys for a bit."

That eyebrow rose again. "Micks, your in your work clothes and besides we're just goin' to Hendricks so this one here can buy me a new toaster. Or that new deluxe toaster oven we just got in, don't know which." She shot a tongue touched grin at James.

"What happened to your toaster? I just fixed it a few weeks ago. Don't tell me it's burnin' the toast on one side again?" Mickey groused.

It was the Doctor's turn to shrug. Rose answered before he could though and he wasn't sure if her answer was better or worse than anything he could come up with.

Laughing, she choked out, "This one here decided I was takin' too long in the shower and took it and the toaster oven apart. Came out and he had parts scattered all over the table. Anyway, I'll catch ya later, Micks."

Leaving a somewhat disgruntled Mickey Smith behind, they headed to look at appliances. James had never had the chance to shop for anything domestic with a woman, he'd had his share of relationships, even moved in with one (a disastrous affair for both of them that if he could avoid sharing he probably would) but the whole shared furniture and appliances experience was not for him. This was...well, fun. granted it was for Rose and not him but it was oddly couple-y. They laughed over the extravagent styles, James drooled over the stainless steel, digital models that Rose vetoed right off the top, concerned that it would end up taking over the rest of the electronics in the flat, and settled on a newer model of her old one.

They walked hand in hand on the way back, James carrying his purchase and Rose a hot chocolate. He pointed out the London Eye when Rose admitted she'd never been and promised to take her. It was getting late when they reached the door to number 48, and Rose turned to James, lower lip caught between her teeth, and asked,

"Would you like to come in?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

" _Do you wanna come in?"_

What the hell was she thinking? Rose wanted to smack herself as she unlocked the door and flicked on the living room light. It was getting late, they'd been to dinner and just walked around the city, and now she was inviting James in. She was stupid that's what she was. Just plain stupid.

"Rose?" James touched her shoulder and she jumped. Actually squeaked and jumped.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

Her eyes darted around the room. Was it smaller or was it her?

"You're shaking. Well and truly shaking, Rose." James slowly reached out and lifted the hand holding her keys. Rose looked down and saw it was, in fact, shaking. So hard that the keys were rattling. She was almost afraid to look at the Doctor and see his expression but when she did his face was calm, those dark eyes gentle. She was afraid it was how he looked at his patients. Right now she felt like one.

"Rose?"

"I don't know what you expect!" she clamped her hands over her mouth.

"What I expect?" James questioned, brow furrowing.

She waved her free hand back and forth between the two of them. "Between us. From this. Right now or even later than now. I don't know, I don't do this. Ever." Her voice rose as she spoke in pitch so that by the end she was almost squeaking.

James took a careful step back, placing himself against the closed door. He'd been getting the impression that Rose was shy but this went beyond ordinary shyness.

"Rose, we just started dating, it's too early for either of us to really have any expectations other than getting to know each other. I know I find you attractive, I hope you find me attractive and at some point I'd like to become intimate." There, there was the wide eyes and the apprehension he kept seeing .

"Is there something wrong with that, Rose?"

Pacing back and forth and around the couch, Rose tugged at her hair with one hand and chewed on the thumbnail of the other. Two dates, one better than her normal before she had to drop a guy but this was the first guy who knew where she lived. He could show up anytime. And he knew where she worked. Oh, god, and she'd have to see him when she saw her Mum! This was getting worse and worse. There was no way to resign him to the faceless few men that she'd had drinks with over the years.

She was so lost in thought, she'd missed James settle in on one of the old recliners next to the couch and she practically ended up on his lap when she tripped over his feet.

"Rose, I'm not being condescending or patronizing but why don't you take your coat off and make us some tea? Give yourself something to do with your hands? I'll stay right here and you can talk to me from the kitchen. Is that alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so."

The kitchen was the same as they'd left it, the dismantled toaster and toaster oven had been cleaned up and placed in a banana box on the table and the tea cups were in the sink. Rose refilled the kettle and placed it on its base and tried to get her mind on straight. So far James was acting the perfect gentleman. He'd never given her any reason to think he wasn't.

"Rose? What did you mean by you don't do this?" James voice floated in from the living room. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her coat on the back of a chair and went about looking for some biscuits. Maybe he was right, maybe it would be easier to talk when they weren't looking at each other.

"This, us together, here, after a date. Hell, I barely even date an' never by my own choice. I only go out when Shareen or Keisha decide I've been home by myself too long an' I'm gonna become a crazy cat lady without all the cats. We, my blind date an' I that is, go out to dinner maybe or drinks an' that's it, done. They don't have my number an' they don't know where I live or work. I chat wit 'em a bit I don't give 'em any specific details. You know more about me in the week we've been chattin' than anyone I've dated ever has."

The kettle sounded so she was saved from hearing James response. Busying herself with the steps for making tea, Rose realized with a start that she'd automatically adjusted the Doctor's cup to match her own nighttime tea ritual. She'd chosen chamomile to avoid caffeine and doctored his cup with only two sugars (instead of four) and a bit more milk, similar to how she did her nightly cup. Sighing, she carried the mugs to the living room and set one on the coffee table, carefully avoiding looking the Doctor in the eye.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him reach for his cup and then heard him hum.

"You used less sugar?"

"Yeah, you should be windin' down. Too much sugar at night will give you weird dreams."

Huffing out a laugh, the Doctor shook his head. "Can't really stop myself from the weird dreams. Anyway, thank you for the tea. Rose, you know I'm thirty-five, I don't know how your friends date but I'm not one that had a 'sleep with a girl on the third date' sort of rule book. I've had a few serious girlfriends over the years, ones that have lasted a few years but no one that I wanted to settle down with. I've gotten burned. I'm just laying that out there for you."

He set his mug back down and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Rose finally looked at him.

"But this isn't about me or my past, though I will share anything with you that you want to know. This is about you and what you're comfortable with. Are you afraid of me, Rose?"

"God no!" the very thought that James would ask that send a jolt through her chest.

He smiled. "I'm glad." He held out his hand and Rose found herself automatically reaching for it.

"Do you want to talk to me? You don't have to, you know? You have your friends or if you would want to talk to someone else, a woman, someone that isn't associated with me at all…" his other hand tugged at his ear.

"Doctor, James…I…I" she sighed. "This whole attraction feelin' is so new for me. Yeah, I think movie stars or singers are hot but I guess I don't let myself feel that for real people, ya now." She sighed. "You know that I … had a rough spot about a year before Mum relapsed this last time?"

"Yeah. You mentioned it and your Mum talks a bit about it. Thinks you changed because of her."

Bowing her head, Rose groaned. "God, I never knew that. It wasn't cause of Mum, not really. I was sixteen, knew everythin'. Met a bloke. Older, bout twenty, wannabe rocker. Said all the right things, was a gorgeous bad boy and I was so tired of takin' care of Mum, of makin' sure she took her meds, that she went to her doctors, that I fell for 'im. Dropped outta school. Moved in with 'im." Rose paused to take a gulp of tea. Her friends all knew this much, this much she could tell James.

His thumb moved gently over the back of her hand, startling her into realizing that she'd never let go. She didn't feel like it now, either.

"Turned out wanna be was all he was. I worked two jobs to pay the rent an' keep up with the bills. He wanted me at his gigs so I waitressed at the pub where he played and while he slept durin' the day I worked at a chippie. He was possessive and loud and cheated on me. When I caught 'im in our bed with another girl, I left."

"I can see how that would shape your views of relationships. Rose, did he hurt you?"

Swallowing, she nodded. "Grabbed me, slapped me a few times."

James nodded. He still thought that Rose was holding something back but now wasn't really the time to delve into it. He wanted to keep seeing this amazing woman and he hoped he could convince her to give him a chance.

"Do you think all men are like your ex?"

Huffing out a chuckle, Rose shook her head. "Now you're goin' all doctory on me, Doctor. Remember, I spend alotta years 'round your type, picked up a few things. Most of the blokes 'round the estates are like that, drink to much, yell, hit their girls. When you grow up here ya get used to it. Some of the blokes the girls set me up with were nice, real nice, but I still didn't want anything more."

"Rose, I don't want you to humor me. I'll still be your Mum's psychiatrist, you'll talk to me when you see her or if there's a change in her condition or if you decide you what to try and bring her home. I don't want you to agree to date me because you feel like you have to, or you feel sorry for me."

Her eyes widened. "Why would I feel sorry for you?"

"Geeky, yet fashionable Scotsman stuck her in London with no social life to speak of. Even Dr. Mott is trying to set me up."

A genuine smile lit Rose's face. She really did like James, enjoyed talking to him on the phone and spending time with him. She'd been surprised when he'd stood up for her to Mickey, it was so normal to have her friends tease her about her lack of a love life that she didn't even try to defend it anymore.

"I don't know about the fashionable part…"

"Oi!"

"But the rest sounds about right. I'm not seeing you outta pity, I respect myself and you too much for that."

A wide grin lit James face. "Perfect! Molto bene! Then we can agree that if one of us invites the other into their home, it's just that, an invite in for drinks, or movies, or dinner unless we are both sure it means something else. Deal?"

Rose nodded.

"Then Rose Tyler, I bid you goodnight."

Rose got up along with James and walked him to the door. He shrugged back into his brown overcoat and turned the knob. A gust of cold air caused Rose to shiver. Just before he left, James leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

Then he winked.

"I'm hoping I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight Rose Tyler."

"'Night, James."

Locking the door behind her, Rose leaned against it with her fingers over her lips.

What was she getting herself into? And the terrifying thing was; she really didn't seem to mind it one bit.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

James whistled on his way to the briefing meeting the next day. The previous night with Rose had gone better then he could have possibly hoped. He'd started to chip away at the mysteries behind some of her more unusual behaviors and he was determined to support her. The catch would be working Jackie though that time in her life. A portion of her psychiatric relapse centered around the withdrawal of her daughter, something he now knew that Rose was unaware of. Jackie, in turn, seemed unaware of what was going on in her daughter's life at that time. Getting mother and daughter on the same page would be a start, but conducting a dual therapy session would be tricky. Perhaps he could have one of the new medical residents run the sessions? She was rather brilliant.

Shooting off a cheeky good morning text to the very not morning person that Rose was, he flicked his phone on vibrate and entered the meeting room only to be greeted by seven solemn faces and one very smug face.

"Ah, I'm not late."

Dr. Mott came up behind James with a grin.

"No, but I don't think they have good news." Especially not with the way Saxon was practically bouncing in his seat. Smug git.

"Now that we're all here and a bit early at that, we can begin," Dr. Stoker, a serious man, with serious hair cleared his throat. "A…situation has been brought to my attention that may adversely affect the care and treatment of one of our patients." He looked at James. "Dr. McCrimmon, is it true that you are seeing the daughter of Jacqueline Tyler?"

He didn't dare look over at Wilf, not wanting to get the older physician in trouble.

"Yes, we started seeing each other about a week ago after having lunch together the day she came in to visit her mother. Not that I see it as anyone's business but we've only had one date. I don't understand how that would affect Mrs. Tyler's treatment here though. Rose and I agreed that outside of work her mother would just be mentioned as she would by any other couple dating. And she is medical power of attorney, so any mention of treatment wouldn't be a breach of privacy if she did have questions."

Wilf leaned forward in his chair. "Most of you are aware that Rose Tyler was an outpatient here for a time. I treated Rose during that time, though those records are sealed to a few of you since she was a juvenile, and I have never seen that young woman light up the way I saw her the day she bumped into Dr. McCrimmon."

Dr. Stoker steepled his fingers and tried not to glance down the table. Even without the look, it was obvious who brought up the complaint. Saxon way practically drooling to get his turn to speak.

"So you were aware of this relationship, Dr. Mott."

"Of course I was aware of it! Practically had to push the two of them out the door. Thought it would be good for the both of them. Dr. McCrimmon has spent far too many nights working late or sleeping here," Wilf shot him a look, "trying to be perfect in everything and Miss Tyler has her own struggles. The two of them are a good match." He sat back and looked and the group of gathered physicians.

"Dr. Saxon, you brought up the issue. Would you like to state your concerns?"

"Yes, I would." Saxon was up and pacing his side of the room before Stoker finished taking his own seat. While the rest of the physicians usually discarded their suit jackets and donned a lab coat, Saxon preferred to be impeccable in a three piece suit and well shined shoes. He never saw patients in his own office and set his students to typing up his dictation. A sanctimonious git.

"Have either of you considered how Mrs. Tyler will feel about Dr. McCrimmon dating her daughter? From what I understand she's not found of him. Slapped you a good one once, didn't she McCrimmon?"

Rubbing the cheek that still occasionally stung in Jackie's presence, James grimaced. "It was our second meeting. We were still in the getting to know you phase. I'd like to think that we're getting along better now."

"Hmmm and you see no problems working through a therapy session and being impartial with Mrs. Tyler?"

James could feel the eyes of the others boring into him. Thankfully, he'd been thinking of this just this morning.

"Actually, I have been thinking about that. As I get to know Rose, I get to know Jackie. And I can't help but think that is unfair – bringing up what I learn from one to treat the other – I was thinking of using one of the medical residents to run her sessions and me listening to the recordings and overseeing. I want to bring that up to Rose first."

Both Dr. Stoker and Dr. Mott looked impressed.

Saxon bordered on stomping his foot. "That's not what the residents are for! Your case load – at the very least Mrs. Tyler – should be turned over to me. I'm the most senior psychiatrist here and was completely overlooked for the Chief position. No to mention the scandal surrounding how McCrimmon actually got the job in the first place. He didn't even want it! He only got it because of the murd-"

Stoker stood. "That is more than enough, Dr. Saxon. There will be no changing of case loads. I don't see how dating the daughter of one patient warrants the loss of an entire load. However, the idea of having Mrs. Tyler's care overseen by different psychiatrist is sound. Who did you have in mind?"

"Martha Jones. She's bright, quick on her feet, and personable. I've seen her in group sessions and the patients interact well with her. She has a strong personality, which one needs with Jackie Tyler, but she's steady, got an even temper, which is a plus."

"Now, wait a minute, McCrimmon, if anyone is going to be getting additional patients, it's me. And we should talk about Dr. Mott's preferential treatment of McCrimmon while we're at it," Saxon huffed.

Wilf raised a bushy brow. "Preferential treatment? What preferential treatment?"

"I approached you the moment the Tyler girl was no longer under your care as a patient and expressed interest in her. Spoke to her in the canteen, tried to see her outside of the hospital setting and she refused. You never suggested to her that we should start a relationship."

Wilf rubbed his eyes. "And you answered your own question for everyone here. The difference between you and James is that Rose Tyler agreed to see James, she did not agree to see you. She did not agree to see you outside the hospital, nor did she give you her mobile number. The only time you saw her was when you sought her out. I am not a dating service. I simply reassured my next in line that I saw no problems with him seeing the daughter of a long time patient and that I would bring it up in this meeting if he still had concerns."

"I should still take over Jacqueline Tyler's care."

"A bit difficult since it is noted on multiple occasions that she refuses to speak with you or join a group that you are observing." Wilf opened a thick folder and paged through it. "Arrogant, slick-haired, weasel, incompetent, condescending, snob – would you like me to go on? She does get rather colorful."

Saxon slammed his hand on the table. "That is not the point."

James leaned back in his chair. "I think that is the point. If a patient doesn't trust their physician, then treatment will not be successful. You can still teach the methods but they won't be as effective without trust."

Stoker nodded. "A fair point. I think that settles it. Dr. Jones will take over the care of Mrs. Tyler with Dr. McCrimmon overseeing. Dr. Saxon will remain with his current case load. Dr. McCrimmon, I do want you find a way to bring up this relationship with Miss Tyler to her mother. Now, let's continue with the meeting.

James was exhausted by the end of the day. Rose hadn't answered any of his texts, which had him worried that he'd done something wrong. They hadn't made any plans but they had been talking everyday since they met. One of his patients disrupted a group session and ended up destroying part of the room. The paperwork alone on that incident was daunting and he was developing a headache on top of it all. He'd introduced Jackie to Martha Jones and the medical resident had been both nervous and excited to have a patient of her own to manage. Jackie had been her usual brash self, wondering why she was getting "ditched" yet again, but the women ended up bonding over Eastenders and overbearing mothers (Martha's own and how Jackie felt her mother treated her). He'd left the two of them sharing childhood stories. A tap on the door brought him out of his brood.

"Are you planning on leaving tonight, Jaime?"

"It's not that late, is it, Wilf?"

"After six. It's been a long day. Tomorrow is Saturday and you have the day off. Call it a night. Go and spend the evening with that lovely English Rose of yours."

Rubbing his eyes, James shut his laptop. "I would love to talk to Rose tonight but she's busy."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I texted her but she hasn't responded. I don't want to seem desperate." Even though he felt it. Rose was the first person he'd met in London that he felt comfortable around, who made him laugh. Well, other than Wilf but that was more of a fatherly sort of relationship. And he'd like to spend as much time with her as possible before he told her mother about them and got slapped into the next week.

"Then go home, have a glass of wine and relax. You deserve it after today."

"Will do. Goodnight." The trip on the Underground home was uneventful. He thought about picking up something on the way but thunder was rumbling in the distance, matching his mood, and the thought of just collapsing in front of the telly and watching the science channel beckoned. When the lift opened on his floor he noticed someone leaning against his door.

"Took ya long enough. The food's gettin' cold and the wine's gettin' warm. You're lucky I didn't crack inta it already."

"Rose?"

There she was, in faded jeans and a denim jacket with a pink hoodie underneath, sitting against his door with bags of Chinese take-away at her feet. She looked gorgeous. So did the Chinese.

"How?"

She took his offered hands and got to her feet, dusting off her legs. "Dr. Mott called me. He wanted to know what time I got offa work and if I had any plans. Said you had a rough morning. He gave me your address and said that you probably wouldn't pick up anything to eat for yourself." She shrugged. "I hope you like Chinese."

He unlocked the door and ushered Rose inside.

Rose glanced around the apartment curiously. Upon first entering the building, she worried someone would take notice of her worn jeans or her less than posh accent and ask what she was doing and kick her out. The Doctor's apartment was certainly more spacious than the one she shared with her Mum, or maybe it was just the lack of …things.

While his office was cluttered with all manner of things ranging from the normal to the odd (the slinky and the multi-hook banana holder came to mind), his home had a sterile, unlived in feel to it. The walls in the living room were a lovely slate gray which offset the oversized black leather living room set nicely. A black lacquer coffee table and end tables completed the look, which could have come straight out of the pages of a home and style glossy. It was all very posh, but very much not the Doctor's style. At least not what she'd come to associate with the Doctor The only thing that looked Doctor-ish was the overflowing bookshelf tucked in the corner of the room near a hall that Rose could only assume led to the loo and bedroom.

"Sooo, what'd you think?" James asked, flopping down on the couch after discarding his overcoat on the matching recliner.

"It's nice."

"Nice. Don't hold back, Rose, tell me what you really think." There was a chuckle in his voice but she could see the faint lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked exhausted. Maybe stopping in wasn't such a good idea.

"No, I mean, it really is nice but it doesn't seem like you."

"You are very right, my perceptive Rose. This was decorated by an ex of mine who desperately hoped the move to London would be the move that put her sharing an apartment with me." He'd closed his eyes during the explanation. "Obviously, she was mistaken."

"Obviously."

An eyebrow rose at her response but his eyes stayed closed.

Rose snorted. He was rude when he was tired. And she was rude when she was hungry so they were going to make a pair this evening.

She dumped the take-away on the coffee table, not really worrying now about the shiny surface. Shucking her jacket and shoes, she eschewed the recliners for the couch, lifting James' feet and dropping them on her lap, untying and tossing his shoes by the door before letting them settle.

"No shoes on the furniture. Or on me for that matter. That was always one of Mum's rules."

"But stocking feet are alright? Do they smell?" James shifted so one leg was behind her and the other in front, effectively pinning her in place. He lifted the foot in front to her nose, rubbing his sock clad toes across her nose. Laughing, Rose pushed him away.

"Mercy!" He settled his feet back down. "You look tired, I shoulda called before comin' over and seen if you wanted company."

His lids lifted revealing those chocolate eyes she could easily see herself falling into and smiled.

"If it's you, then the company is always welcome. Thank you for bringing dinner. At this rate we're going one for one with the date nights. Though does it count as a date if one of us isn't expecting it?" Sitting up, he dug into the bags, shifting around white carton of rice, noodles, chicken and vegetables. He groaned when he took a bit. Rose grinned.

"Good?"

"Mmmgggd." Swallowing, he nodded.

"So what happened today that was so bad? Dr. Mott didn't give me any ideas 'cept that it started right away."

He pulled the container of lo mein onto the couch with him so they could share easier before he began.

"Harold Saxon happened. Insufferable git decided to bring up our relationship for the whole physicians board to discuss. We've barely started on a relationship and he's there talking about reassigning my patient case load and how Wilf showed me preferential treatment and…Rose? Are you alright?"

Rose felt the blood drain from her face. Her hands were cold and the Chinese felt like a congealed mass in her stomach.

"I don't like Dr. Saxon," she whispered.

Dropping the carton on the table, James grabbed her hands and turned her to look at him. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles along the backs before he placed them both between his own and rubbed. The heat from them felt wonderful and Rose found herself leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

"Saxon mentioned he asked you out. Said it outright during the meeting but he said you turned him down. What else did he do?"

"Promise you won't say anything?"

"Rose…"

Lifting her head, she pulled her hands free to cup his cheeks. "Doctor, I need you to promise me you won't say anything. Not to Dr. Mott, not to the other doctors, and absolutely not to Saxon. I won't tell you otherwise. You have to promise." Heart pounding, she waited for his answer.

Sighing, James nodded. "If it means that much to you, I won't say anything, but I don't want you hurt, either."

"You have to understand, that's what I'm tryin' to avoid. Saxon followed me around the hospital from the time I started seeing Dr. Mott till I made it clear that I would move Mum if he came near me again. At first he'd jus' sit with me in the canteen, try an' talk about Mum or school. Tell me I was pretty. Once I turned 18, it got worse. Now, I guess you could call it stalkin' but no one would in my case."

Frowning, James kept one of her hands in his and rested it on her knee. The other tucked an errant strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"What did he do? Why wouldn't anyone have called it stalking if that's what it was?"

Rose snorted. "Look at me. I don't know what you see, Doctor, but most people see a chav who didn't finish school. Dr. Saxon used that. Said that I should be flattered that he was payin' attention to me, that he was interested. I couldn't stand him. He was always touchin' me," she paused and smiled slightly at James, "and not like you do. His hands would brush my chest or bum when he held the door or he picked up somethin' for me. Kept tryin' to get my mobile number. That's one of the reasons my land line is cancelled. He got holda that some how and kept callin' and leavin' all these nasty messages."

"Rose, Wilf would have believed you."

"I know, but he was talkin' about retirin' and meeting with this bloke in Scotland, so he was busy. Plus, Saxon sorta did himself in when he tried to see Mum a few times. She hated 'im. Told him flat out that he was a wanker and she wasn't wastin' her time on 'im."

James laughed at that. "Oh, that I would have loved to see. He's still burned over it, too. Has he bothered you lately?"

Rose sat back on the sofa. "I hate to ask but I could really use a glass of wine right now."

James hopped to his feet, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Oh, right, sorry about that. Be right back." He grabbed the bottle she brought and disappeared into the kitchen while Rose thought about their conversation. So far the impression the Doctor was getting of her couldn't be that good. He knew she'd run away at sixteen, dropped out of school and now had one of his colleagues following her around. Yeah, she was really a catch.

"Okay, so about Saxon."

She took the wine and swallowed. It was sweet and still cool. "He tends to leave me alone now. I don't stop for lunch in the canteen, I just visit with Mum and Dr. Mott and leave. Doesn't mean he's not still a creep."

"Oh, he's still a creep and a few other things that I'll not say in a lady's company. But he won't be treating your Mum, either. I have one of my residents taking over her care and I'll oversee. I'd like you to meet her next week some time."

James described Martha Jones and how she bonded with Jackie over television and parents. Rose thought the woman sounded wonderful. By the thunder had drawn closer and lightening was flickering across the sky. Rose got up to look out the windows at the London skyline. She'd always loved storms, how a good, hard rain drove out the dust and pollution and left the city sparkling. But she didn't want to stand at the bus stop in the rain either.

James came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Stay here tonight."

"Doctor…"

"Please. The storm's only just starting. We'll watch comedies and finish the Chinese. Drink too much wine. Say yes?"

Closing her eyes, Rose leaned back enjoying the warmth of James' body against her own. She was going to regret this, she just knew it.

"Okay, I'll stay."

Grinning, James swooped in for a kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Harold Saxon was having a bad day. He'd had the morning completely mapped out, from McCrimmon's humiliation and ultimate firing, to taking an early lunch to woo the elusive Rose Tyler. But thanks to the incompetent fools he was forced to work for none of it had gone according to plan. First those completely unimaginative prats in the briefing meeting refused to fall in line. Not only would they not transfer McCrimmon's case files to him but Mott refused to give him the Tyler girl's mobile number. Oh, he'd tried to access it through the hospital system, sighting emergency necessity – especially after Mott was waylaid in Scotland trying to clean up the mess that occurred when he thought it better to look at someone other than Saxon himself for the Chief Psychiatrist position – but Jacqueline Tyler herself managed to get in the way of that.

And before he could issue the papers that Jackie Tyler was unfit to make such a decision, Mott was back in London and not with his tail between his legs. No, he ended up bringing back someone even worse.

He was too nice, that was the problem. He'd been toeing the line, especially where Rose Tyler was concerned. New security protocols had been put into place on the electronic medical files and he was having no luck circumnavigating it and McCrimmon had rigged his door after an "unknown" break in the first week he was there. Damn exploding ink bomb ruined one of his favorite suits. And the interns and residents were utterly useless. Too afraid of losing their place in the run for permanent positions to step out of line.

Lightening flashed outside the window, illuminating the computer screens. No, he'd have to take matters into his own hands like he'd done in Scotland. He'd rushed a bit then, hadn't cleaned up like he should have, but now, now he had all the players in London and he wanted his prize. Pulling a mobile from his desk, he dialed a familiar number.

"It's Saxon. I need another favor and this time I need you to be subtle."

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Rose groaned as the kiss escalated. James' hands slid into her hair while hers drifted down to his (frankly magnificent) bum and squeezed. When she felt his erection bump her stomach, she pulled away with a sigh, burying her flushed face in his shoulder.

"Too much?" he whispered, kissing her hair while his hands rubbed circles over her back.

"Yeah, a little. You'll think I'm barmy, but it's been years since I've even snogged anyone.

Dropping one last kiss to her hair, James pulled away, grinning. "Well, you aren't out of practice, that's for sure."

Rose couldn't help but smile back. She loved his smiles, the bright happy one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his toes tap and the small shy ones that told her he was as unsure of himself as she was.

"How about you change into something more comfortable while I heat up the rest of this food and maybe add some popcorn and we just veg on the sofa."

"Mmmm, if you add chocolate then that's a plan. But what am I supposed to change into? Didn't exactly plan on stayin' over." A clap of thunder punctuated the statement and a deluge of rain crashed down obscuring the view from the window.

"I think I can find something. Come on." Twining their fingers, he trotted off down the hall.

"Doctor, I'm not sure I'll fit into a pair of your track bottoms…"

Smirking he pushed open the last door and flicked on the overhead lights. "I wouldn't worry if they turn out to be snug. I won't mind the view one bit, Rose Tyler." He waggled his brows before one dropped comically to match the drooping side of his smile. "Or is that your way of saying I'm too skinny? Have a cousin in Scotland that says I'm built like a stick."

It was the first time he'd let anything slip about his remaining family and Rose cherished it. And she wasn't about to call attention to it.

"No, you're fit. And you have a fantastic bum and I know you've caught me lookin', so don't fish."

Laughing, he moved to the wardrobe. "That I did. Give me a mo' and I'll show you where you can change."

If the rest of the apartment had been decorated by the mysterious ex, this room must have been re-done because it was pure James. It still had the spacious layout the rest of the flat had, with a door that Rose assumed led to an ensuite, but James had painted three of the walls a soft suede brown and the fourth wall with the bed a deep, rich crimson. Rather than traditional bookshelves, pallet boxes were stacked together and stained in shades of maroon and navy, secured to the walls with heavy bronzed hooks. At least a dozen climbed up and down the walls at odd angles, overloaded with books, brimming with papers and brick-a-brack.

The floor was littered with discarded oxfords and converses of various colors poked out from the mess.

"No hamper?"

James didn't bother to lift his head from the wardrobe. "If I went into your room right now, I'd bet you five quid it looks worse than this. Your Mum told me stories about trying to get you to clean up your room when you were little. Even tried to bribe you with a cat."

Groaning, Rose thumped her forehead on the door frame. "I'm goin' to have to talk with Mum about the stories she shares with you from now on."

Turning, he tugged on his ear. "I need to speak with you about that, actually. Here, you can get changed in the guest bathroom; it's the door opposite this one in the hall. I'm going to change and heat up our dinner."

Rose took the bundle and turned into the loo. Glancing longingly at the shower, she stripped and pulled on what the Doctor provided, a pair of loose boxers and a Glasgow football tee. Frowning at the rat's nest her hair had become, she inhaled deeply and tugged open the door. Butterflies turned in her stomach as she made her way back to the living room.

In the soft glow of the telly, her mind spun with a dozen different scenarios of how the night could go, from her running out of the flat into the rain, to falling into bed with the Doctor, to him giving her horrible news about her Mum. She paced the room, moving from coffee table to window and back, growing more agitated as the minutes ticked by.

"Rose!" James' called from the kitchen. "I can hear you worrying from in here. Stop chewing on your poor nails and relax, I promise you what I have to tell you is nothing bad and if you'd like, we can see your Mum as soon as tomorrow."

Frowning at the doorway, Rose pulled her thumbnail from her mouth and flopped onto the couch. The Doctor returned with a loaded tray that included a second bottle of wine and Rose reached for the ice filled glass and the already open bottle before he managed to get the tray on the table.

Arching a brow, James frowned. "I hope you're planning on following up that wine with some food."

"I am." She swallowed, draining her glass. "'S just you got my mind goin' a mile a minute an' now I can't focus on anythin'."

"Take a deep breath, Rose, alcohol isn't going to help with that. And don't give me that look, I'm a doctor and if you act like a patient I'm going to treat you like a patient. We really need to teach you some relaxation techniques."

Huffing out a breath, Rose set her glass down. "I learned 'em once, haven't used 'em in ages."

"Even I use them to keep my mind clear, especially when I'm sitting in a meeting with Harry Saxon. Now, grab something to eat and let's talk about your Mum." He waited until she loaded her plate and took a bite, chuckling quietly when she closed her eyes and groaned. She nudged his leg with her foot before he continued.

"Now, about your Mum. I'd been thinking about it and it was brought up – rather forcefully I might add – that my seeing you and treating Jackie might bring up some difficult to navigate issues. As I get to know more about you, I get to know more about Jackie and via versa and that's not fair to either of you. And I don't think I can completely separate myself when it comes to that knowledge."

Rose was quiet for a moment, poking at her lo mein noodles. "Does that mean you don't wanna see me anymore? Outside of meetin' about Mum, I mean."

"Nope," he replied, popping the "p" happily. "I plan on seeing as much of you as I can, Rose Tyler. That's why I want Dr. Jones to work with Jackie. She'll oversee the group therapies and one on one and I'll review and guide."

"I'd like to meet her, 'specially if she can handle Mum. Now what did ya mean about separatin' yourself from what ya know? I haven't told you all that much about me and what I did, Mum knows. Except that bit about Saxon and you promised not to tell!"

"I did promise and while I don't agree with it, I won't tell anyone. You'd be surprised at what you shared that Jackie doesn't know about. For example, your differing views on the time you left home at sixteen. As a doctor, I want to poke at it, draw it out from both of you, but I don't feel right. Same with knowing you don't pick up after yourself unless you have to. "

Tilting her head, Rose narrowed her eyes. "Like using one to treat the other."

"Yes! That's it exactly! I think it would do both of you a world of good but that's not up to me."

"You're right, it's not. But I do see your point. Dr. Mott used to complain that Mum and I would talk about everythin' and say nothin'. I guess that hasn't changed. Still, that's my business and I know your tryin' to help an' all…"

"Rose," he rested a hand on her knee, "I get it, I do. Sometimes it's difficult for me to blur the lines between just being me and being a doctor." He tugged his ear, "Could be why I have trouble making friends."

Smiling, Rose eyed the lime green and bright blue patterned pajama bottoms and yellow Beatles tee he was sporting. "Or it could be that keen fashion sense you were talking about."

Looking down at himself, he frowned. "What's wrong with what I have on?" I love this shirt!"

Chuckling, Rose shook her head and took another bite of Chinese. Between the thunder and rain pounding outside and the warm fuzziness the wine was lulling her into, she was beginning to relax, really relax for the first time since she'd gotten there. Dr. Mott discussed her anxiety issues with her almost every time she visited her Mum, but she'd always laughed him off. Maybe it was time to consider working on the problem a bit more. She doubted the Doctor would like her having a glass or three of wine every time they got together.

"So, I met Mr. Mickey, tell me a bit about your other friends? What do you do when you're not working?"

"I'm always working. Like I said the other day, I pick up as many shifts as I can so I almost never have a full day off. I thought about takin' another job but Henrick's aint' all that great at tellin' me ahead a time that they need me. When I do have a free minute, I'm visitin' Mum, payin' bills or cleanin' the flat."

"You used to paint." He made it a statement rather than a question.

"I did, I do. Even took some classes when times were good. I love photography, too. Takin' pictures and then tryin' to recapture those images on canvas. I haven't had time to pick up a brush or charcoals in years. I have had some time to take pictures, though. Nothin' special, but I have 'em."

"We need to find you time to paint again, Rose. I think that would go a long way to helping with your anxiety." He tugged on his ear. "That was doctor-y and rude wasn't it?"

Laughing, she tossed a fortune cookie at him. "A bit. But you don't sound much different from my friends. They just call me uptight. And I'd rather paint than party. I'm really borin'."

"Well, I find you a study in contradictions, Rose Tyler. And I present you a peace offering for being rude." He pulled out a chocolate bar and held it about his head. Tossing her place back on the coffee table, Rose lunged for it but his longer arms kept it just out of her reach. Out of options, she reached out and poked his stomach and was rewarded with a sucked in breath and wide eyes.

Freezing, Rose stared at James shocked face, a smirk quirking at her lips. He shook his head.

"No, Rose, really…"

"Too late!" Darting forward, she launched a tickle assault that ended with coffee table pushed two feet away from the sofa and pillows scattered over the floor. Rose triumphantly licked her fingers as she sat on the Doctor's stomach, the latter draped on the couch on his back.

"Happy now?"

"Yep."

Grabbing one of the pillows, he got comfortable and pulled Rose down to lay with him. They found a silly sci-fi film on and settled in.

Until Rose woke in the dark to James screaming.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Rose sat up, heart pounding. She was surprised to discover it wasn't her having the nightmare but James. The telly was on low, some late night infomercial in the background, and they were cuddled on the wide sofa, Rose draped over James' chest. Sitting up had left her straddling his legs but he didn't wake, instead his screams turned to whimpers and murmurs.

"I canna…I didna do it! No!" his brogue thick in his dreams.

Her nightmares led her to withdraw from people, not wanting touched or confined, even by blankets, but she didn't know if the same could be said for James. He sounded so young –Rose wondered if the dream was about the fire that killed his family.

Careful of his balled up hands, she laid one hand on his chest – above his frantic heart – and the other on his cheek.

"James! James, you need to wake up."

He trashed beneath her, nearly dislodging her, and normally the position she was in would have her in a panic but her concern for James overrode any deep seated fears. Rose realized that at this moment she was in control – not the Doctor – not the man beneath her – and she needed to be strong.

"No! Stop, you canna…"

Moving her grip to his shoulders, Rose shook him once – hard – and sat back.

"James!"

Chocolate eyes snapped open and rolled wildly. It was obvious he had no idea when or where he was. Grabbing one of his fists, Rose pried his fingers open and laid his palm against her cheek.

"Hey, it's me, Rose. You're safe. You're in your flat in London. We fell asleep watching telly."

Slowly, so slowly, those dark orbs focused on her. Blinking, the Doctor raised his other hand to cup her cheeks.

"Rose," he breathed voice still rough.

"Yeah, that's me. Know where you are?"

Huffing out a breath that caught his sweaty fringe, he nodded.

"Aye. Bloody London, in my bloody flat, havin' a bloody nightmare and scarin' the life outta ye most likely."

Grinning a bit, Rose pushed back his hair. "It's not the best way to wake up, I admit, but if I'm stayin' over then you can bet I'll wake ya up a time or two. Ya know your accent gets thicker when you have a nightmare?"

His eyebrow quirked. "Does it?"

"Yep."

"Do ye like it?"

She laughed, like she knew he wanted, and made to get up, but his hands on her hips held her fast. Looking closely, she could still see the remnants of the dream haunting his features.

"Why don't we shut off the telly and see if you have any hot chocolate? Mum always made it for me when I had a nightmare or couldn't fall asleep. Even when she was havin' a rough time, it was one thing she still thought to do."

"Or we could shut off the telly and lie here in the dark and cuddle."

"Somehow, I don't think lyin' here in the dark is gonna help. Come on, up ya get."

Grumbling, he helped Rose up and then followed her into the kitchen. He moved to the cupboard for the chocolate, content with letting Rose handle the kettle since it was out, but was surprised when she went to the fridge instead.

"I need a pot." She resurfaced with a carton of milk, squinting at the side and sniffing it for good measure.

"Why do you need milk? I have instant cocoa." He pulled out the drawer under the oven and handed her the pot anyway, watching her pour milk about half way up, frown, then add a touch more. "And I have mugs you could measure with."

"Nah, pot this size, half way should be just about half a mug each. And the milk is ta help you sleep. Plus, it makes the cocoa thicker." She tilted her head and stared at him for a good minute before nodding.

"What?" His left hand drifting to his ear and tugging. "What!?"

"Nothin', you look a bit more alert is all. And yer accent's not nearly as thick as it was." He watched in silence as Rose finished their drinks and moved to the table. It was another piece that was lacquered and shiny – one her Mum would have said was for lookin' and not touchin' – but the Doctor didn't seem to have a problem with cups on the coffee table, so Rose assumed this was fine. It _was_ supposed to be for eating on after all.

Sipping the hot milk, she waited to see if the Doctor would start talking on his own.

James tried to ignore Rose and her golden eyes, those eyes that asked so many questions of him without doing much more than blinking. He concentrated on the hot drink, the velvet texture of the cocoa coating his tongue, the slight burn as the liquid slid down his throat.

"You're not letting this go, are you?"

This time, her brow rose. "I didn't say anythin'"

Heaving out a breath, he set his cup down. "Not out loud, no. But you have no idea how expressive your eyes are."

"So was the dream about your childhood?"

"Nooo," he drawled, "not that time. Most of them are. As you probably guessed, most of my nightmares are about the fire that took my parents lives. But this one, this one is different and far more recent. I've been having it since I came to London."

Reaching across the gleaming wood, Rose grabbed James' hand and squeezed.

"Do you wanna tell me about it? I don't know if it would help. When I have a nightmare, all I want to do is get outta bed, turn on all the lights and take a hot shower."

He hummed with a smile. "Now the taking a hot shower sounds pleasant, especially if the present company is included. There's not much to tell about it really – it's almost stereotypical – dark woods, a figure in black, loud noises…"

He shuddered and Rose decided to let it drop for now. But she could share a bit with him…maybe…

"I always dream I can't move. I'm bein' smothered and it's so hot and everythin' hurts. No matter how much I scream no one can hear me or if they can they just laugh."

James hadn't left go of her hand and pulled so she made her way around the table to sit on his lap. Slowly, gently he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"And me holding you like this doesn't bother you? Doesn't make you feel restrained?"

"No, 's like I know you would let go right away."

"I'd never hold you against your will. When I wake up – I think, I think maybe I'm the one that's running, not from someone but away from something. Something terrible that I did. I just can't or don't want to remember it fully."

Turning to face him more fully, Rose couldn't control herself, she needed to run her fingers through the Doctor's sleep tousled hair. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch. "Could you have done something that bad?"

"We're all capable, Rose, that's something I learned working over the years. Even children can be cruel."

" 'S sad," Rose murmured, resting her head in the crook of James' neck. He felt rather than heard her yawn, her breath moist again his skin.

"Right now I think both of us need to go back to sleep. Come on, that couch, big as it is, isn't really made for two people to be sleeping on it. Unless, you want me to take the couch and you can have the bed?"

Snorting, Rose let him lead the way to his bedroom. "Considerin' I was the one draped all over you, I think you can take your chances."

Roe found herself singing along with the radio as she got ready for work on Monday. She couldn't believe her luck, really James was fantastic. Smart, funny, yeah, he had a bit of a past but who didn't, herself included. They'd spent Sunday doing a tourist tour of London, going to all the sights she walked past every day but just never bothered with, the London Eye, the Bridge, Big Ben, and food! She ate more in one day than she'd eaten in a week!

The Doctor wasn't a perfect gentleman, he babbled (especially when he was nervous) and was rude – he thought nothing of correcting the tour guide (or taking over was a bit more accurate) if they were wrong. Still, he was kind and attentive and she hadn't had a lot of that in her life.

Tugging on her pink hoodie, she was just about to open the door when there was a knock. Thinking it was Mickey she pulled open the door with a grin.

"Wotcha! Didn' think…"

A man in a dark suit and sunglasses was standing grimacing as he looking down the walkway.

"Are you Miss Rose Tyler?"

"Who are you?"

"Just answer the question. Are you Miss Rose Tyler?"

"Yeah, who wants ta know?"

He handed her a thick manila envelope and turned away.

"Wait! What is it? Who's it from?"

"Let's just say it's from someone very concerned about your well being, Miss Tyler. And that people are not always who you expect them to be."

Frowning, Rose looked at the thick packet. "Shit." If she didn't run, she was going to miss her bus and then she'd be late for her shift. Shoving the packet into her bag, she took off down the stairs and promptly forgot about it.

"So, rose, you spent the whole weekend with Mister tall, dark, and gorgeous?"

Shareen picked at her salad and deciding that her diet could wait a day, reached across the dingy break room table to nick one of Rose's chips.

"Oi! You're the one that wanted lettuce! And yes, not that it's any of your business. And get yer mind outta the gutter, nothin' happened. It was nice. We walked all over the city, I think he knows every place ta eat at there is!"

"Did he buy ya anything good?"

"Ree! No! He's not like that. I mean he bought me lunch and dinner, but I paid for our first and third dates."

Shaking her curls, Shareen wagged her fork at Rose. "Ya shouldn't be payin' at all with a bloke like that. I tell ya Rose, ya should be listenin' to Keisha and me. Space things out a bit, let him grovel."

"James is a grown man, not one of the guys you and Keisha pick up at a club. I don't think it works like that. "

"Okay, since you won't spill any juicy details about your new beau, then maybe you can tell me what's in the package," she replied, nodding towards Rose's bag.

"Oh, I completely forgot. There was a knock at the flat before I left. Thought it was Micks but it was some block in a suit. He handed me this and said it was from someone who was interested in me or something'." Rose pulled out the envelope and opened it. It looked like a series of old Scottish newspaper clippings and copies of police reports from the very early eighties.

Shareen watched her friend's face pale and her hands begin to shake as she flipped through the pages faster. Shoving the papers into her bag, Rose stood and swayed a bit.

"Rose?"

"I…I need to go. I…I…I have to go home."

"Sweetie, go. I'll cover for you."

James whistled as he ran up the last flight of stairs to Rose's flat. They hadn't made plans for the evening but he was excited to see her and was thinking of taking her to the observatory. Rapping on the door, he rocked back on his heels.

Mickey answered with a scowl.

"You got a lotta nerve comin' round here, mate."

"What do you mean? I came to see Rose?"

"Yeah, I don't think you need to be seein' her any more. And I don't think you'll be havin' your fancy hospital job after today either."

Running a hand over the back of his neck, James sighed.

"Mickey, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Really? Well, here. And don't expect a good-bye, either."

Mickey shoved the paper clippings at James and slammed the door. Glancing down at them, James caught the first headline and swore. It seemed like at least a few of his demons were following him from home.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

James rolled over and stared at the clock. Five ten, exactly three minutes from the last time he looked at it. There was no point in trying to get anymore sleep. Dragging on a ratty blue dressing gown, he made his way to the kitchen in the dark. The past week had been hell. After Mickey slammed Rose's door shut in his face, he'd gone home and dumped the contents of the packet on his living room floor. He didn't need to read through it to know what it said – he'd memorized it years ago – been taunted with it through boarding school and even by some at University.

Littered amongst the clippings were pictures of his mother and father at awards galas, his father at lecterns, smiling, contrasting with photos of a sullen little boy with wild hair and crooked bow ties and pinching shoes. The articles told of a successful husband and wife team – he lectured and she fundraised – with an …unusual son. James preferred the company of books when he was younger, hating how those his age had no desire to take something apart with care to see how it worked or could be improved on, but were more interested in destroying it.

When the fire happened, James had been found in the barn, curled around his favorite filly, nearly catatonic. He wouldn't – couldn't – answer any questions and no one could understand at the time why he had burns on his chest and hands. A social worker, kind and patient, along with the fire investigator, finally figured out that the burns came from him trying to put out the fire with the horses water, he'd been trying to get into the back door of the house where the flames were the hottest.

The damage had been done by that point. Rumors swirled around the village that the fire was started by that "mad little boy" and how they knew "one day something like this would happen, no one in that family was quite right." Articles published as "opinions" littered the papers, all claiming to quote inside sources at the hospital, that James was mentally troubled, he harbored a grudge against his parents, or that his tinkering went wrong and he tried to hide it and the fire got out of hand. The police did little to stem the gossip, too busy trying to piece together their own investigation and handle James's paternal grandparents to worry about one little boy.

His father's penchant for chemistry and basement laboratory were ultimately blamed- though James knew that his father rarely left anything unsecured. When his own grandparents sent him away peoples fears were confirmed – James McCrimmon was nothing but trouble best left to someone else.

And now Rose knew about the past he thought he'd left behind when he'd decided to take Wilf up on this position. He'd not wanted to, not with the police hanging around again a whole new scandal brewing around the McCrimmon name, but when the old doctor had come to Scotland himself, sat down with James and said he just wouldn't retire, did he consider really leaving. Staying had been more of a finger to all the gossips anyway, not a real love for the area.

He'd had every intention of telling Rose about his parents, about his childhood, maybe even taking a weekend trip to a nearby area in Scotland to show her the land, but not for a time. The relationship was too new and they both were damaged.

Tossing the remnants of his now cold tea in the sink, James went to dress. Rose was such a mystery to him. Fiercely protective but so unsure of her own self worth. He'd been looking forward to peeling back the layers and getting acquainted with the woman beneath but he doubted now that he'd get a chance.

Five hours later found Rose Tyler rummaging under her pillow for her mobile. Frowning, she read the number for Nightingale Hospital on the display.

" _God, was it the Doctor? Was he calling from work now since she wasn't answering his calls or texts? What if it was her Mum?"_

"Get a grip on yerself, Rose." Sighing, she answered.

"Rose! What took you so long?"

"Mum? Waz wrong? Do you need me? What 'appened?" Rose tumbled out of her nest of pink and purple blankets, dropping onto the floor in a heap and nearly jarring loose the phone in the process.

"Calm down, luv, nothin's the matter. But I do need you ta come down here. I 'ave a bit of a surprise for ya."

Smiling at the excitement in her Mum' voice, Rose agreed.

"I'll be there in about an hour, Mum. But how'd ya know I was here? I'd normally be workin'." Pulling jeans and a tee off the floor, Rose headed for the loo.

"I may be locked up in here but I'm still yer Mum and it's best you remember that, missy. You'd be surprised at what I know. Now get here quick as you can. And remember, it's my surprise."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Still a bit disoriented and with her third mug of hot tea in to-go cup, Rose pushed through the revolving doors of the hospital and came to a stop. There in the foyer, dressed in a powder blue track suit and trainers, was her Mum. Jackie was laughing with Dr. Mott and chatting up a young couple with a little boy, his bright ginger hair standing on end, her Mum grasping his hand and waving it back and forth.

"Mum?"

"And there's my Rose now! Couldn't tell to look at 'er now, but when she was Rupert 'ere's age, she 'ad 'air borderin' on ginger. Strawberry blond, they called it. Then it just turned dark."

Dr. Mott gave her an indulgent smile. "Rose, Rory here is going to be one of our new nurse's. His wife Amelia is a writer."

"Nice to meet ya." She shook hands with the ginger woman who looked just a few years older than her and the man and then the couple moved on. "Mum? Waz goin' on?"

"This is part a that surprise I told ya about!" Jackie showed her a bus pass and a day pass from the hospital.

Dr. Mott gripped Rose's shoulder. "Now young lady this is all arranged and I don't want to here that you gave anyone – including Mrs. Tyler – any trouble. Go, relax, listen to your mother, and come back and see me if you need to."

"But Dr. Mott….wait!" He waved as he disappeared through the automatic doors leading to the ward. Rose raised a brow to her Mum. "Alright you, what do you have planned?"

Jackie grabbed her daughter's hand and pulled her through the exit. "You heard the doctor (Rose's heart twisted a bit at that) no lip."

James filed away the last chart with a sigh. His office was spotless, even his diplomas and certificates were on the walls. He'd spend the better part of the last hour putting everything away, he'd even dusted – which yielded some interesting results from under his desk and confirmed his suspicions that since he'd implemented his new homemade security system that the cleaning crew had been skipping his office.

"Well McCrimmon, finally becoming serious about your job, I see? Or is something bothering you? Personal problems maybe?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Saxon?"

Harry leaned against the doorframe, straightened, frowned, and then rubbed his fingertips over it before shuddering. "No, I really don't. So tell me what's on your mind. I am, after all, a master of the mind."

James snorted. "Master of the mind? Who is more wronged the deceiver or his flock? Are you playing at being a mentalist now, Saxon? I never claimed to be perfect, in fact, I tell my patients that because there is nothing worse than having someone who claims to be perfect telling you how imperfect you are."

"And that's where you and I differ in our methodology. I am perfection. I represent perfection. These poor souls need to look upon that and strive for it or else how are they to get well? What are they here for but to be what society needs them to be?"

James plopped behind his desk. "Society doesn't need perfection, Harry. That's the last thing this world needs is mindless automatons running around doing as our leaders say."

Harry slapped the doorframe. "And why not? We put those leaders in charge for a reason. A majority voted for them, controlled by those who carefully manipulated the media in their favor. Power, McCrimmon. That is the backbone of society. And it should be molded, nurtured by those with the knowledge to do so."

"Like you?"

"Yes. You're weak, McCrimmon. You lack the spine to dive in and get what you want. You were weak when it came to this job – wanting to come in as an assistant to Dr. Smith instead of as the Chief position – my rightful position, from the beginning. Can't hold a girlfriend. I would never let a blossom such as Rose Tyler slip through my fingers like you did. Maybe your theory of showing that you're a man with flaws is just too much for some people."

Saxon glanced at his watch and smiled. "I have a lunch date with a gorgeous blonde. I'll be sure and let you know how it goes."

James dropped his head to his desk just as Wilf entered the office.

"What do ya think of the place, Rose?"

"Hmmm?" Reclining back in the pedicure chair and thoroughly enjoying the massage function, Jackie's question brought her out of a light doze. They'd spend the last few hours getting trimmed, colored, waxed and pampered and Rose enjoyed chatting with her Mum.

"This shop, do ya like it?"

"I love it." She fingered the single pastel pink streak she'd had added to her hair. Newly cut to just above her shoulders and streaked with more natural honey colored lowlights to blend in with the bleached blond, Rose felt better than she had in a long while. "I don't know how I'm gonna break it to Shareen about my hair though. She'd the one been bleachin' and cuttin' it."

"Well you can tell Shareen your Mum's gonna take care of your hair from now on and not let it get so ratty."

"Wait, what?"

Jackie wiggled her purple tipped toes. "This shop is all patients from the hospital, Rose. Men and women who are ready ta work. Dr. Mott and Dr. McCrimmon think I'm ready to start workin' again and I…I want to Rose. I need ta feel like I'm helpin' ya out. You've been doin' too much. If things go well here, they have flats, too. All part a the hospital."

"You don't wanna come home?"

"Oh, luv, I do. I want nothin' more than ta come home but I don't know if I'm ready yet. But I'll have a flat and you can come stay with me and visit."

Rose looked at her Mum. Jackie had color in her cheeks and had spent the day chatting with the other employees. She knew Jackie wouldn't be able to come home yet but this would give her an opportunity to grow. And her Mum hadn't been this excited in a long time.

"I think it's a fantastic idea, Mum."

"Good. Now tell me what's goin' on with you and that doctor of yours."

Rose could only gape. James had told her that he was passing of her Mum's case to another physician, or at least the day to day bits of it. They had planned on talking to Jackie together – which she didn't think was going to happen now – not with how confused she was feeling. Was he talking to Jackie about their relationship to try and get her to talk to him?

"Did he say somethin' to you? If he did…"

"He didn't say nothin' Rose, not even about bein' interested in ya, though ya'd have ta be blind ta miss it. Caught him staring after ya one day. No, Dr. Jones told me he's been a right git all week, somethin' about the girl he'd been seein' not talkin' to him."

"He's been a git?"

"Oh, not like you're thinkin'. He's all quiet and broodin'. Doesn't eat. I put that together with you not returnin' my calls for the last couple days – I had this set up, not the spa treatment but a tour, fer days – and I had 'im come in an' talk to me."

Swallowing, Rose followed Jackie over to the row of dryers and dropped into a chair. "So tell me your side o' things."

"Mum…"

"I've heard a bit of 'is side o' it, now I want to hear yours. Waz goin' on with you, Rose?"

Dropping her head on the table, Rose let out a sigh. "Oh Mum, he seemed so perfect. I mean he took me out fer chips that last time I saw you, yeah? And he forgot his wallet! We started textin' after that and went on a few dates, nothin' serious. Turned out he wasn't that perfect after all."

"Rose Marion Tyler no one is perfect and you are settin' yerself up for disaster if you think they are. You father certainly wasn't perfect."

Rose's head shot up and Jackie chuckled.

"It's getting' easier ta talk about Pete, lord knows that's all Dr. Jones wants to talk about. What did Dr. McCrimmon do that was so wrong?"

"It wasn't so much what he did, Mum. He hid things from me, really important things. Things we shoulda talked about."

"And how did ya find out those things? Look 'im up online, did ya?"

Rose shook her head. "I didn't even think of that. I coulda, I guess, it was a big enough story. But it happened years ago. I got a package that had all this stuff in it about his parents an' how they died an' stuff. It said that the police thought he did it, started the fire."

"And you've know 'im what, a little over a week? And you think he needed to tell you that a whole bloody town turned on 'm as a child?"

She moved to pick at her new manicure but Jackie was quicker, slapping at Rose's hands. "Mum! He already told me how he lost his parents. It was just a shock, I guess, to see that, to read all those articles about 'im."

"And you didn' give 'im any chance to explain hisself did ya? Who sent you that stuff anyways?"

"I don't know. It didn' come by post. A man was waitin' outside our flat for me."

Jackie stood and tugged Rose to her feet. She urged Rose to don her trainers and thanked the women at the spa before ushering her to the bus stop.

"You focused on the wrong thing, luv. You shoulda wondered about the man waitin' at the door!"

"Mickey didn't seem worried…"

"Mickey can be a bloody idiot and he'll be getting' an earful believe me. Now we need to get back and talk to yer boyfriend."

Huffing as she dropped onto the narrow bus seat, Rose groaned.

"He's not my boyfriend, Mum."

"We'll see about that Rose."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Of all the places Jackie could have taken her, Rose didn't expect to be dragged to James' office. Or that James would be sitting with his head down on a spotless desk in an organized office. Rose didn't know what worried her more, the dark circles and scruffy beard or the organization.

"Rose? Mrs. Tyler? What? Is something wrong?" He ran a hand over his face and stood, his dark eyes running over Rose, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for her.

"I'll say somethin's wrong and it ain't the way the two of you are mopin' 'round each other. Someone knows where my Rose lives. Someone that don't like you much Dr. McCrimmon."

"Sit." He moved behind them to shut and lock the door pull the blinds down for good measure. It became clear to Rose exactly how worried her mother was when she didn't make a sharp comment to the Doctor about him ordering her around and instead took a seat and dragged Rose with her.

"Mrs. Tyler, what do you mean, someone that doesn't like me much?"

"Didn't occur to either of you to ask how those newspaper articles turned up so conveniently, did it? No, just moped about and avoided each other…"

James threw his hands up. "I called, I texted, I stopped by!"

Rose looked up at that. "You never stopped by. Mickey never said anythin' about that."

"And I'll get to Mickey in a minute," Jackie interrupted. "Did Rose or Mickey tell you about the man in the suit that stopped by the flat last week?"

James shook his head. "I assumed the clippings had been mailed. It's old news. It's not the first time they've shown up when I've moved on." Grabbing three waters from the mini-fridge, he handed them out and sat on the corner of his desk.

"My father was brilliant but eccentric and he had the mood swings that often accompanied genius. Nothing violent – but he would be surly and moody one minute and then off on another topic the next. My mother was wonderful at handling him, able to coax him out of a funk when an equation won't work out and get him to focus on family for a bit." James tugged at his loosened tie. "He was rubbish at University events and fundraising, so my mother took over that."

"Sounds like the apple didn't fall far from the tree, there." Jackie said.

"Mum!"

"What? 'S true."

Sighing, James nodded. "It is true, Rose, even then people could see it. That's part of the reason they turned on an eight year old boy. The evidence didn't point to me and eventually my grandparents sent me away. Gossip died down. But those articles and rumors followed me. To boarding school, to uni, to my first job."

Rose looked up. "Why didn't you tell me about them when you told me about your parents?"

"Oh, and that's a great conversation when you're getting to know someone; 'By the way, you know how my parents are dead? Well the whole town thought I did it for a while.' I like you Rose and forgive me if I think that screams run as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

Rose twined the newly pink strand of hair around her fingers and chewed her lip. "I get it, I do. I'm lousy at relationships and I guess you could say I've got some trust issues. 'S hard to want one person to be an open book when you wanna lock up tight."

Jackie snorted. "You two make a right pair, you do. Now what are we gonna do about that man at my Rose's door."

Scrubbing a hand over his face, James picked up a small toy brain off his desk and began squeezing it rhythmically.

"Did he look familiar in anyway? Someone you might have seen around here, for instance?"

"Nooo, I don't think I've seen him before."

"Are you sure, Rose? Even picturing him wearing something other than the suit?"

"Hold on a minute, Dr. McCrimmon, why would someone here want to cause you trouble?" Jackie asked.

"I'm an outsider for one. There are people here that resent me for being hired for Wilf's…Dr. Mott's position. Plus the circumstances that surrounded my hiring weren't ideal. That's another problem."

Shaking her head, Rose frowned, "Sorry, Doctor, but I don't think I've ever seen 'im before. And he hadn't been 'round since, least not that Mickey's said."

"Mickey?"

"Yeah. He's been crashin' on the sofa. Says he doesn't want ta leave me alone at night."

James shook his head. "That would explain why every time I came over he would meet me in the stairwell and threaten to toss me out on me head."

Rose gasped. "What! He didn't! Why? I mean, he knew I was confused about you an' all but why wouldn't he say anythin'?"

"Rose Tyler that boy has been sweet on you since the third grade. You've always turned him down but maybe he's lookin' for 'is chance." Jackie smacked at her knee.

"Well, he's not helpin' himself!" Rose snorted.

"Much as I hate to say it, I'm glad Mickey was staying with you Rose. It's not a good idea to be alone until we figure out if this person is just trying to scare you off or if they are planning something else."

"Doctor, I don't want Mickey moving in, I can't sleep with him there as is. He snores, watches too much late night telly, and the kitchen is a mess."

James dropped the little toy brain. "Well, if you wanted to, that is, if you don't have any other options that you want to pursue, you could stay with me."

Rose looked from her mother to the Doctor. "You don't have ta do that ya know."

"I know but I really can't think of a reason why someone would want to personally deliver old clippings to you unless they were monitoring you, watching your movements. And it would throw them off to have you coming and going from my part of town."

Rose had the feeling the Doctor had a good idea of who he wanted to pin this on but wasn't going to say anything around Jackie and she didn't blame him. Her mum was taking this all so well, whether it was because she was truly doing better or because the focus was off her and on Rose, she didn't know. The time alone with the Doctor would give them a chance to talk about everything.

Jackie stood. "Well, then that's settled. Rose, love, I want you to call me when you get to work and when you leave."

"Mum, I work such odd hours…"

"How about this, Mrs, Tyler, Rose will call you when she gets to work. That should work out with you starting your new job. She'll call me if she's finished in the middle of the day and I'm still here or I'll plan on meeting her at Henrick's in the evening if she works late?"

Jackie nodded then leaned down and kissed her daughter. "I suppose that will have to do. Take care of yourself, love. Doctor, walk me back?"

As she swept out the door, James sent Rose a panicked look and for the first time in a week she found herself smiling.

"Wait here for me? I'll only be a few minutes."

Glancing around, Rose noticed just how different James's office looked this time from her previous visit. It wasn't just that the boxes and files were put away; most of the toys that were scattered around last time were now out of sight. The spider plant was missing and so was the little basketball net above the waste paper bin. It looked sterile and ordinary, nothing at all like James. In a way, it reminded her of James's flat, nice to look at (posh in the case of the flat) but reflected nothing of its owner.

"Why Miss Tyler, what a delightful surprise. I must say I am surprised to find you keeping such unsavory company."

Rose clasped her hands together tightly in an effort to keep from bolting out of the room. That voice slithered over her and seeped into her very marrow, chilling her. Harold Saxon.

Wanting to face him eye to eye, she stood, bracing her bum against the desk.

"Dr. Saxon. Dr. McCrimmon is takin' my mum back to her room. He should only be a few minutes."

Saxon stepped into the office. "Well, a few minutes of your time should be all I need. Really, Miss Tyler, I would think you'd have better taste than to waste your time on an imbecile like Dr. McCrimmon."

Jutting her chin forward, Rose growled, "Who I spend my time with is none of your business, Dr. Saxon. And I think my taste has gotten better over the years."

Stepping forward, Harold gripped her chin. "Are you so sure about that, Rose? Poor little Estate chav raised by an unstable single mother. Your taste in men is bound to lean on the…unsavory side, wouldn't you say? Maybe…repeating past mistakes?"

Rose wrenched her head away. "Whadda you know about it?"

Saxon chuckled and was about to reply when James came in.

"Rose! Are you alright?"

She moved without thinking, her feet just took her there while Saxon was distracted. She darted around the other man and tucked herself into James's side.

"I'm alright. I think Dr. Saxon was leavin'."

"Hmmm, yes, if that's what you'd like. I was just here to check up on Dr. McCrimmon and see if his day had gotten any worse. Unfortunately, it seems to have gotten better." He winked at Rose. "Think about what I said Rose."

When he left, James looked down at her and fingered the pink strand of hair. "Are you sure you're okay."

She laced their fingers together. "Can we just go to my flat? Please? I just don't wanna think about things for a bit. I know it's early…"

"No, I can go. You're sure you want to stay with me?"

Rose smiled. In for a penny…


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

The trip back to the Estate seemed to go on forever. Rose normally took two buses with a several block hike in between but James insisted on going to the nearest Underground stop. It was crowded, hot and loud, their timing having hit when most of the schools let out, but James managed to find a singe empty seat and he insisted Rose sit while he held the bar above her.

His body was in constant motion, not only with the swaying motion of the Tube, but he would tap his toes or wiggle his shoulders every few minutes, pausing in between to run his fingers through his already wild hair. He was making her nervous.

"James?"

"Hmm?" The hand made its circuit back through his hair. Rose had had enough. They had two stops left and he was driving her mad. Grabbing onto his belt, she tugged hard, causing him to stumble and land on her lap with an oomph. The man on her other side snorted and shifted a bit but stayed asleep.

"God, you are heavy, I wasn't lyin' before. Now will you hold still for a bit? You're worse than a five year old on a sugar rush!"

James brushed Rose's fringe out her eyes, lingering on the soft pink streak.

"And do you have evidence of what a five year old on a sugar rush is like? Or are you just making assumptions?" he asked, his eyebrow quirked and his face arranged in that smug 'know-it-all look'.

"I have cousins. Right little shi... terrors, they are. Tried watching three of 'em at once. Locked myself in the loo just to get some peace." She began finger combing his ruffled hair, dragging her nails across his scalp. He leaned back into her chest, rumbling low his chest. Rose hadn't realized how much she missed the intimacy of physical contact this past week. Sure, she would give Mickey, Shireen or Keisha the occasional hug, but it was quick and usually just involved arms and shoulders. Contact with the Doctor was almost always a full contact sort of experience, even hand holding. Their fingers would be linked and their arms and shoulders would brush together as they walked.

"Hmm, Rose? Don't you think we should switch places?" The Doctor finally looked relaxed, eyes closed, long lashed resting against dark circles. "I don't want to squish you."

"You're fine for the next stop. Granted we're gettin' a few odd looks," his eyes popped open at that and he noticed a group a teenaged girls giggling behind their hands. Rather than shift, he smirked and winked before leaning back against Rose and nudging her hand to continue its motion through his hair.

"Did anyone ever tell ya, you could go bald playin' with your hair so much?"

"Pfft, twaddle. I like that word, twaddle. Stimulating the roots, that's what you're doing. Making it grow all the faster. How have you really been, Rose?"

Sighing, she leaned her head down and laid her cheek against the Doctor's hair.

"Honestly? Tired. Confused. I meant what I said back in your office with Mum, though. I am rubbish at relationships. I've only ever had the one and it was the biggest mistake of my life. 'S why I'm so afraid of you hidin' something from me even though I haven't really shared all that much with you."

James twined their fingers together. They only had a few more minutes left before the last stop, and then it was a fifteen to twenty minute hike to Rose's flat –if they didn't stop for dinner. "You have opened up to me..."

"No, no I haven't, not really. Nothin' that my mates don't already know. We're supposed to share things and maybe this isn't about you…maybe it's…maybe it's me and…"

Before Rose could get really worked up, the Tube lurched to a stop, nearly tumbling James out of her lap.

"Look, let's grab something for dinner and we'll talk when we get to your flat. Unless you have food at home?"

Rose shook her head as they climbed the stairs and spilled out onto the busy street. "No, well maybe some Top Ramen."

"Mmmm, ramen… I know just the place."

Two steaming bowels of chicken and noodles later, and Rose reclined against the back of the sofa and watched as James practically inhaled the remains of her bowl. While Mickey made sure she ate while she was struggling with what she found out about the Doctor, she wondered if the same was true for him. He didn't act desperately clingy or jealous of her other friends but she needed to know why he wasn't close to anyone else here in London.

"Doctor?"

Wiping his mouth, he set the bowl on the battered coffee table and turned towards her. That was another difference between him and Mickey. Mickey complained she didn't have cable and only got a few channels, none with the good footy matches on. So he jumped on a neighbor's wireless and had his laptop going night and day. Even if they talked, there was something on in the background taking up part of his attention. With the Doctor, she was the only one in the room.

"Why don't you have anyone here in London? I mean, I had Mickey, Shireen and Keisha but you didn't have anyone? How long have you been here? Longer than the month you've been working, yeah?"

Sighing, he rubbed his eye with his finger. "Guess we both have things we don't like to talk about, eh? Wilf started trying to recruit me right out of medical school. I was a bit impulsive, unorthodox and most of my colleagues knew about my past so I didn't have many job prospects, at least not clinically. I worked in research for a bit but the lack of patient contact was, frankly, boring. I wanted to do something.

Not long after Wilf contacted me the first time, I met Dr. John Smith. He worked mainly with war veterans, being one himself. He was brash, rude, short-tempered and a brilliant teacher. You would have loved him, Rose. It took a few years but he finally convinced me to take the offer here in London. And I agreed, on one condition."

"What was the condition?"

"That Dr. Smith come with me. I would work under him in an assistant capacity. He was angry about it, at first, but he agreed. He knew that my past followed me and wanted me to make it on my own merit. He would stay a year and then I would take over."

Placing her hand on James' knee, Rose tried to bring him back to the present. He was looking at her but his eyes had taken on a haunted, lost look.

"Doctor? What happened to John?"

"He…he died. Just two days before we were supposed to leave. The police thought it was suicide but he wouldn't do that. I don't remember much about that night. The police tell me they found me near my car with a head wound. They think he hit me over the head with a rock, they found a bloody one nearby, and that he jumped off a cliff."

"Oh, Doctor…"

He gripped her hands and chocolate eyes met golden hazel. "Rose, he was happy. John wouldn't have killed himself. No one listened though. Most people didn't see the man he was – he reserved that for his patients or his close friends. They just ruled it a suicide and closed the case. So when Wilf came 'round again, I left. Nothing there for me. I'd been in London about four months when I met you."

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water. "You can see why I was worried when your Mum said those clippings were hand delivered. They've followed me for years but I don't recall anyone ever saying that someone dropped them off. I don't know if that makes it personal to you or me."

"But you have an idea."

His expression darkened. "Oh yes."

"Saxon." They said at the same time.

"Doctor, I know he's persistent and he's a right prick but would he really go to that much trouble for someone like me?"

"Oh, Rose, you underestimate your appeal and no, I don't just mean the way you look. You have a way of holding yourself, tilting your head, of tackling a problem or question head on that is really quite…arousing. Hearing that he's been flirting with you since you were a teenager," James shuddered, "That's low even for Saxon."

"Okay, I'll have to take your word for it. So why you, then?"

Shrugging, James moved to put his feet on the coffee table before a look from Rose dropped them right back to the floor. "You have to remember he wanted the Chief Psychiatrist position. Not only was I an outsider but in his mind, I didn't even want the job in the first place. I was entering into a position that wasn't even offered originally, it was created just for me under Dr. Smith. Plus, me starting to see you was just the icing on his already spoilt cake. He saw you first so he had dibs."

"No one has _dibs_ on me! I'm not some cheap prize from down the pub!"

James held up in hands in surrender. "Easy there! I know that but Saxon sees people as disposable commodities. And he doesn't like being told no. I wouldn't put it past him to have dug up those old articles and had them delivered to you." He reached out and cupped her chin. "What worries me is that he sent someone to do his dirty work for him. At least he broke into my office himself when I first started. Got ink stains all over his pretty suit, too"

Rose laughed. "What?"

"When I first started at the hospital, my notes kept disappearing. It got so bad; I started taking everything home with me at night. Came in the next morning and my whole office was trashed. Oddly, the security cameras in my hallway weren't working that week. So, I decided to add a little _additional security_ as it were. I rigged up an exploding ink bomb to go off if anyone tried to get in without the key. Nasty stuff, too, had to wear off. The next morning Saxon came in and his hands and wrists were stained red. Mumbled something about dye but I knew it was him. Unfortunately, when I reset it, something must have gone wrong because housekeeping refuses to set foot in there, now."

"I knew you liked to blow things up!"

"Oi! It worked just fine at first, thank you very much!" Draping his arm over her shoulder, James pulled her close and dropped a kiss into her hair. "Feel a bit better?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think I do." Tilting her head up, Rose captured James lips in a kiss. It was the first one she initiated and James kept it soft and light. Feeling reckless, Rose nipped at his bottom lip and flicked it with her tongue. Groaning, James deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers. Hands on her hips, James moved her so she was straddling his lap.

"Alright?" he panted.

"Fantastic." His hands slipped up the back of her tee shirt when her mouth descended on his neck. When her teeth hit a particularly sensitive spot just behind his left ear, his head fell back against the sofa and his hands moved up to cup her breasts through her bra. Rose pulled away, panting, to give him a wicked grin.

"Wanna know somethin'?"

"Always."

"You're the first guy I ever made out with on a sofa!" She pulled off her tee shirt and captured his lips again and James was momentarily distracted by his blood flow completely deserting him for regions further south before he remembered she had a serious relationship before this. His brilliant mind just wasn't going to focus on that now, not when Rose Tyler was unbuttoning his oxford and running her nails over his chest.

Growling, James flipped them so he was on top (not exactly comfortable with the short length of the sofa but he made it work with one leg on the ground and the other wedged between Rose's thighs) and kissed his way to the tops of her breasts.

"Please, Doctor…"

Grinning wickedly, he nipped the lace of her right cup. "Please, what, Rose?"

Glaring, she bucked her hips up, brushing against his straining trousers and James groaned. Adjusting a bit so that his erection pressed firmed against the seam in Rose's jeans, they set up a steady rhythm, hips grinding, mouths meeting in progressively sloppier kisses.

Rose was so focused on the unfamiliar tingling building up and spreading to her toes that she didn't hear the front lock snick open.

James had his head buried between the soft mounds of Rose's breasts, his breathing ragged as his fingers worked at the zip of her jeans, too distracted to hear the thud of a bag hitting the carpet.

"You bloody pillock! Get the hell off her!"

James found himself hefted back by the shoulders and flung into an end table, upsetting a lamp and causing it to shatter, ceramic cutting deep into his hand. His arms went up in self defense but a flurry of pink (the color of Rose's bra) and yellow flew at the intruder.

"Damnit, Mickey, what are you doin'?"" A crack split the air and James found himself wincing in sympathy. If Rose's slap was anything like her mother's, the boy would be feeling it for a week.

"I…You…" Mickey gestured at her front. "He was pawing at you! I was rescuing you!"

Rose flushed and reached for the nearest article of clothing, James' oxford, and slipped it on, buttoning the center few buttons.

"How the 'ell did you get in 'ere?"

Mickey looked everywhere but at the furious blonde. "I sorta made a copy of your key when you were at work."

"Michael Smith, how dare you! I let you stay over because you said you were worried about me, I didn't expect you to try an' move in." Her eyes darted to James on the floor and widened. "Oh, god, Doctor, you're bleedin'."

She made to move beside him but he shook his head.

"It's not too bad, Rose. At least I don't think it is. Could you get me a towel first?"

"Yeah, yeah, stupid me, o'course." She hurried down the short hall to the loo and rummaged for a towel and first aide kit leaving the Doctor and Mickey to glare at each other.

"What the hell did you think you were doin' with Rose, huh?"

The Doctor smirked. "Well, if you need an anatomy lesson there, Rickey, I prefer to keep those things private but…"

"Enough you two." Rose knelt down and pressed the towel against the Doctor's bleeding hand. He nudged her with his leg to get her to look up.

"Hey, it's fine, really. Though it is the first time I got beat up by a jealous boyfriend."

"Mickey's not my boyfriend."

Dropping into the recliner with a huff, Mickey agreed. "Rose, do you even have any idea what you're doin' with this guy? After everything that happened?"

"Yes, Mickey, I do know what I was doin' considerin' I started it. And speakin' of the last week, why didn't you tell me the Doctor had been stoppin' by?"

"Er, well, what those papers said. He's bad news, Rose! And with what happened to you before…."

Rose cut him off. "Those articles were old."

The Doctor nodded, hissing a bit when Rose applied antiseptic to his cut. It wouldn't need stitches but it was going to be painful for a bit.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Rose knew my parents died in a fire. I didn't tell her about being suspected because I was a child. Not exactly something you want to bring up on a first date. We're getting there, Mickey. Getting to know someone takes time."

"What about the slick suit at the door?"

"That's what worries me."

Rose finished wrapping his hand and helped him back to the sofa.

"That's why I'm going to be staying with the Doctor for a few days."

Mickey's jaw dropped. "What! Why? I said I'd stay as long as you needed me to, babe."

"And I appreciate it, Micks, really, but I can't sleep when you're here. And not after you went and made a copy of my key!" Sighing, she rubbed at her forehead. "Look, Mickey, I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but could you maybe give the Doctor and me some time alone, please?"

"Rose…"

"Please, Mickey."

Finally, he dragged his feet to the door. "As long as you're sure, babe." Rose nodded. "I'll call you first thing in the morning."

Waiting until the door shut to rest his head against the back of the sofa, James groaned. "Well, that was a first. Don't think I've ever gotten caught necking on the sofa before." He flexed his injured hand. "I am glad to see how protective your friends are of you, though."

"Hmmm. Mum mentioned somethin' today about Mickey having been in love with me since we were little. I never saw it. And he never said nothin' about it. Maybe some things woulda turned out different if he woulda."

"What things?"

Rose got up and locked the door making sure to turn the deadbolt and attach the chair before coming back over to the sofa. She pulled an old quilt off the back and wrapped it around the Doctor and herself.

"I think it's time you knew why I don't have relationships. About what happened when I ran away."

"Rose, you don't have to…"

"I think I do. I…I want to, need to, if we're goin' ta be together. You know a bit already. That my ex was a worthless lump who knocked me around. But that's a… sterile…version of what happened. You have to understand I was sixteen and tired of bein' the responsible on. I wanted to raise hell. " Rose drew a deep breath and blew it out.

"Then I met Jimmy Stone at a club…"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

" _You have to understand; I was sixteen and tired of bein' the responsible one. I wanted to raise hell. And then I met Jimmy Stone at a club…"_

Staring forward, Rose got lost in the memory. "God, he was everythin' I shoulda stayed away from. Five years older, sang in a would-be rock band, drank and partied like he didn't have a care in the world. And he was gorgeous. He was everythin' I wanted.

I started seein' him behind Mum's back, not comin' home from school, sneakin' out late at night, that sorta thing. Came in pissed once and she had a fit. I left and moved in with him that night."

Seeing her hands clench the quilt, James placed a hand between her shoulder blades and rubbed.

"Rose, you don't have to tell me this all at once, not if it's going to be difficult."

She shook her head and a humorless laugh barked out. "It's gonna be tough as hell no matter when or how I tell it. I know your secret, so now you need to know mine." Rolling her neck, she continued.

"At first, it was pretty cool. I hated school anyway, so I just stopped goin'. Mostly we hung out in his bedsit with his band mates and drank or got high while writin' songs. Pretty soon I found out that Jimmy did a lot of gigs as favors and what money he got – he owed people. So I started workin' at the chippy down the street during the day ta make sure rent got paid. I got home and had to try and clean up the flat or make dinner and I was too tired to make it to a couple of his gigs." She drew a deep breath.

"That's when he hit me for the first time. Wasn't much, just a slap across the face, but still. Said I was his girl and I needed to support 'im. He played regular at this one bar, sorta seedy lookin', but they needed a waitress so I started workin' nights, too. I was tired all the time and he noticed. Called me fat, told me I was eatin' too may chips at work, even started showin' up and yellin' at me. But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part…the worst part was sex. He was my first and I thought it was gonna be great. I hated it. Hated it every time. It always hurt and if I struggled, it was worse. He was always tellin' me about all the girls throwin' themselves at 'im while he played and he wasn't one to say. If I left the bar before 'im, he would come home so pissed and high. He always wanted sex then and I thought if I just laid there it wouldn't be so bad."

She hadn't realized she'd started crying until James cupped her cheeks and rubbed his thumbs over her tears.

"Rose, did he rape you?"

She shook her head slightly, not wanting to dislodge James' hands.

"No. Maybe. I don't know. I never said nothin' and after the first few times he hit me for not cleanin' or somethin', I learned not to say no."

"How did you leave him?"

She snorted. "I don't know if I woulda. He got arrested for drugs about six months in. When the cops came to the flat and saw me, they charged him with battery. Racked up a ton breakin' the lease comin' back to Mum."

"Oh, Rose." James wrapped his arms around Rose and pulled her onto his lap. One hand stroked her hair while the other held on tight as he rocked her. Her tears where silent and he couldn't help but wonder if that came from her time with Jimmy as well.

"You, my precious girl, are so brave."

Sniffing, she shook her head against his neck. "No, I'm not. I didn't leave 'im, even when I caught 'im with other girls. I just ducked my head and tried to give 'im no reason to notice me."

"You survived and you are a beautiful person. Remember, I saw you with Miss Foster; you didn't have to be so kind to her. Most wouldn't have."

"But I'm broken. I don't know if I can be … physical …with anyone."

James pulled back so he could see her face, then raised a brow and looked at the couch.

Rose chuckled. "I meant it when I said that was a first. And with clothes and stuff…I felt normal. But Doctor, I don't know if I can…if we can…have sex."

"Is it that you aren't ready because I will wait as long –"

"No, that's not it, obviously. But it hurt every single time Jimmy and I did it. I was so sure somethin' was wrong with me that I saw three different doctors."

"And what did they say?" James tried to keep his voice even. If the bastard had damaged Rose permanently…

"I'm fine, normal. There was no reason for it to hurt like it did." A blush crept up her cheeks. "I don't even…"she waved her hand vaguely in the direction of her crotch. "Myself because of the pain he caused."

"Rose, you show desire and that is a miracle. My miracle. He could have left you so scarred you wouldn't ever want to be physical with anyone again. And you chose me of all men. Rose, I'm honored."

Wiping at her cheeks, Rose smiled. "You don't give yourself enough credit, James McCrimmon." Pausing she looked at her fingers, smeared with makeup, and groaned. James laughed.

"You do look a bit like a raccoon." Shoving him back against the sofa, Rose climbed off him and headed for the tiny loo, tying her hair up as she went. "I think I want to take a quick shower. Are we staying here tonight or going to your place?"

The sky was just turning dusky outside and there were take out containers scattered everywhere. And he didn't have his car so they'd have to walk to the tube in the dark.

"Go ahead and shower. We can clean up here and pack a bag for my place. I don't like the idea of going across town in the dark."

"'Kay. Don't get into too much trouble. And don't take apart the telly!"

"Oi! One time!" he called to a closed door.

Listening to the sounds of the shower, James began cleaning up their mess, chuckling to himself when he heard Rose singing. Reaching under the sink, he grabbed a large bin bag and dropped the trash from their dinner along with the bag currently in the rubbish bin in before heading to the fridge. He didn't want Rose coming home to a mess of spoilt food. Frowning, he poked at the nearly empty carton of milk and eggs, the only things edible other than condiments and those, at least in his mind, never went bad. The freezer wasn't much better with only a half empty bag of chips. No wonder she was always ready to eat when he suggested food.

Grabbing the banana box that contained the remnants of the toaster and oven, James pulled his mini tool kit out of his jacket pocket and began tinkering. The methodical task of removing screws and springs and cataloging them (even if it was all in his head) allowed his mind to clear and focus. While they'd both agreed Saxon was a likely suspect, it was only because Rose was just beginning to get to know him. If he took her to Scotland…well, that would be an enlightening trip for her.

Dr. Smith had found a kindred spirit in the young Dr. McCrimmon. He'd been angry at the world then, unable to get a job in a hospital though there'd been no lack of interviews. Just when he thought he'd nailed it, the employer would mysteriously withdraw the offer. It got to the point he'd had a spectacular row with his grandparents, accusing them of sabotaging him. Turned out his juvenile records, his _sealed_ juvenile records, were getting faxed to prospective employers just before the hiring decision was made. His grandfather had stepped in then, or rather his lawyers did, and James found himself languishing away in a basement research facility.

So when John Smith stepped in, James was basically a glorified file clerk and data miner in an unhappy relationship with a woman who was picking out her own engagement ring and trying to move herself into his flat while he was trying to move her out. Maybe Smith saw something he related to in James, he'd never asked and Smith never told, maybe it was the survivors remorse that lurked in his eyes, but the next week, James found himself in St. Agnes Hospital working in the outpatient clinic with PTSD veterans. And his soon to be ex was furious.

Shaking his head, James murmured "Always the blonds…"

"Waz 'always the blonds?'"

Rose's voice so close startled him and he would have sent screws flying everywhere if it weren't for her quick hands.

"Sorry 'bout that. Been sittin' here for the past ten minutes wondering where you went. You looked so far away."

"Consider yourself privileged, Rose Tyler. Not many people can sneak up on me. I was thinking about the past."

Frowning, Rose picked up a heating coil. "About blonds from your past?" she raised her brow.

"What?" He looked up then and noticed her disgruntled expression. "No, well sort of. You know how people have a type?"

"Umhm. Like mine was light haired bad boys with tattoos."

"Yes, well – wait, really? And you think a pretty boy like me is good looking?" James sat there with wide eyes.

Rose tossed the coil at him. "Don't start. You have a nice bum. Anyway we're talking about your blonds."

"They aren't my blonds. I was sort of reminiscing a bit. About how things were when I first met John Smith. I was unhappy at work and home wasn't much better. I always had a thing for blonds – well there was this one time in university with a girl named Christina, she was brunette. Never did find my trousers or pants. Anyway, I was dating a French woman, Reinette, at the time. She's the one who decorated my flat here. Had us engaged about two months after we met. Hated John because he wasn't in awe of her."

"What happened to her?"

"We broke up when she realized I wasn't taking her to London with me. I have an active restraining order against her still. She tried to set fire to my flat with me in it."

Wood scratched against linoleum s Rose pushed her chair back and stood. "What?! Did she know what happened to your parents? Why wasn't she arrested? Where is she now?"

"Easy, Rose." James stood as well and moved to lightly grip her arms. "It's been almost a year now. She was a French citizen and her father is a diplomat. Plus, she never actually set fire to anything. I came home to this dramatic scene with dozens of candles set out in the living room and piles of my clothes soaked in wine. Reinette was sobbing, clutching a ring that I never bought her, and asking how I could throw everything away."

He blew out "I guess that's my kryptonite. Fear of commitment."

"Doctor, James, I don't blame you for not wantin' to marry 'er. And I'm not askin' for marriage, you know that, right?"

Together they began packing up his project. "I know Rose, I just want you to know I'm not that great of a catch. I could have handled Reinette better. I could have…"

A crash in the living room startled them and the acrid smell of smoke began to fill the flat.

"Do you have an extinguisher?"

James didn't wait for an answer as her ran into the small living room and saw a smoking bottle on the scorched carpet. Not thinking, he grabbed it and tossed it back out the window to the empty lot below where there was a small bang and more smoke.

The hiss of a chemical extinguisher made him turn and he watched Rose spray over a small patch over carpet.

"What the hell?" She asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Smoke bomb. More to scare or disorient than to cause damage." Rose cell chimed and she grabbed it from the couch.

"It's Mickey."

James nodded. "Have him come over. I'll call emergency." He grabbed her hand. "I keep thinking this is about me, about someone after me. But this…"

Rose nodded. "Nobody knew you were stayin' here. Does that mean someone is after me?"


End file.
